MILLIONS 


BY  ERNEST  POOLE 


BLIND 

His  FAMILY 

THE  HARBOR 

BEGGARS'  GOLD 

His  SECOND  WIFE 

"THE  DARK  PEOPLE" 

THE  VILLAGE:  RUSSIAN  IMPRESSIONS 


MILLIONS 


BY 

ERNEST  POOLE 


gorfc 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1922 

All  fights  reserved 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


COPYRIGHT,  1922, 
By  ERNEST  POOLE 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  September, 


Press  of 

J.  J.  Little  &  Ives  Company 
New  York,  U.  S.  A. 


.   ; 


To  M.  & 


528661 


MILLIONS 

CHAPTER  I 


MADGE  CABLE  came  out  of  her  brother's  room, 
went  slowly  to  a  chair  and  sat  down.  In  her  small 
determined  mouth  and  her  steady  grey-blue  eyes  was 
a  look  of  rigid  composure  which  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  case.  She  felt  numb  and  frightened, 
strange. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  she  asked  herself.  "Suppose 
that  he  should  die  to-night?" 

The  November  dusk  made  the  living  room 
of  her  brother's  apartment  dim  and  unreal.  She 
had  never  been  here  till  this  afternoon.  She  still 
wore  her  brown  travelling  suit,  and  her  cloak  and 
bag  were  by  the  door.  It  was  Sunday.  Late  the 
night  before,  Gordon  Cable  had  been  hurt  in  an  ac 
cident  in  his  automobile.  His  partner  had  tele 
graphed  to  the  dull  small  town  where  his  sister 
lived,  up  near  Albany,  on  the  West  Shore ;  and  she 
had  taken  the  next  train.  Nobody  had  met  her 


2  M.I  L  LIONS 

in  New  York,  and  on  reaching  the  Park  Avenue 
apartment  a  few  minutes  ago  she  had  found  no  one 
here  but  an  old  colored  man  and  a  smart-looking 
pretty  young  nurse.  She  had  gone  at  once  into  Gor 
don's  room,  and  had  thought  at  first  that  he  was 
dead.  In  a  low  voice  she  had  questioned  the  nurse. 
A  blow  on  the  head — concussion — coma.  He  lay 
lifeless  as  a  log.  A  lean,  tall  man  of  thirty-six,  his 
face  with  its  large  mouth  and  nose,  gay  humorous 
attractive  eyes,  had  been  magnetic  and  full  of  life, 
only  a  few  hours  before.  But  now  all  that  was 
swept  away,  and  beneath  the  bandage  around  his 
head  his  features  showed  thin,  white  and  gaunt. 
The  eyes  were  closed.  It  was  touch  and  go.  At 
least  he  was  not  suffering.  There  was  nothing  to 
do  but  wait. 

In  the  front  room,  in  the  deepening  dusk,  she  sat 
without  stirring  for  some  time.  Her  principal  feel 
ing  was  not  of  grief.  She  was  sorry  for  her 
brother,  of  course,  and  shocked  and  stunned  by  the 
disaster;  but  for  years  he  had  barely  seen  her  or 
even  taken  the  trouble  to  write — though  he  must 
have  known  how  poor  she  was,  and  the  dull 
monotonous  life  she  led.  What  overwhelmed 
her  now  was  this,.  In  the  autumn  of  1917,  before 
he  went  over  to  France  in  the  army,  Gonlon  had 


MILLIONS  3 

written  a  letter  to  Madge  in  which  he  said  that  he 
had  left  her  everything  in  case  he  were  killed. 
He  had  not  been  a  rich  man  then,  but  now  he  was 
worth  millions — and  in  a  few  hours  he  might  be 
deadlv 

With  a  sudden  icy  cold  sensation  of  excitement, 
she  clenched  together  her  small  hands.  Still  sitting 
motionless,  she  thought, 

"I'm  not  going  to  think  of  that!  He'll  live — 
of  course !  He's  got  to !" 

Determinedly  she  turned  from  the  present  and 
forced  her  thinking  back  and  back  into  his  distant 
early  life  and  her  own,  in  the  small  town  up  near 
Albany.  And  as  she  thought  of  those  early  days,  the 
tears  came  quickly  in  her  eyes. 


In  a  lovely  old  house  looking  down  on  the  Hud 
son  out  of  its  birches  and  bi^  pines,  they  had  grown 
up  together.  Though  he  was  four  years  older,  a 
quick  tempered  little  lad  forever  getting  into  fights 
and  into  mischief  of  all  kinds,  he  was  gruffly  patient 
and  kind  with  her.  She  was  chubby  and  round  and 
neat  as  a  pin,  from  her  pig  tails  to  her  stubby  brown 
shoes.  She  adored  her  big  brother  and  scolded  him, 
with  large  clumsy  stitches  she  mended  his  clothes, 


MILLIONS 


made  him  read  to  her  and  tell  her  stories,  up  in  the 
attic  on  rainy  days,  and  udress  up"  with  her  and  be 
"a  knight  errant  noble  and  true,"  when  he  wanted 
to  be  Pirate  Bill.  She  made  him  "run  away  from 
home  forever,"  down  the  wooded  river  bank  to  their 
"galleon"  in  the  river.  And  when  the  old  rowboat, 
still  tied  to  the  pier,  had  been  poled  a  few  feet  out 
into  the  stream,  and  he  asked,  "Now  what'll  we  do?" 
— she  answered  placidly,  folding  her  hands,  "Live 
happy  ever  after,  of  course." 

As  time  went  on,  growing  less  romantic,  she  made 
him  teach  her  to  row  and  swim;  and  they  fished  in 
the  river,  and  they  made  long  slow  excursions  at  a 
jog,  both  of  them  on  one  fat  pony,  back  into  the 
wooded  hills.  At  such  times  she  stoutly  declined  to 
become  one  half  of  a  cavalry  charge,  and  she  grew 
to  detest  the  very  name  of  Morgan  and  his  raiders. 
She  argued  to  the  point  of  tears  with  Gordon  about 
the  Civil  War. 

"Dad  was  a  Virginian  and  I'm  a  rebel  still!"  he 
would  cry. 

Their  father,  having  come  up  north  with 
Gordon  and  his  mother,  after  her  death  had 
married  again;  and  Madge,  the  child  of  the  second 
marriage,  in  vain  appealed  to  Gordy  to  love  her 
mother. 


MILLIONS  £ 

"That  Yank?"  he  would  say,  in  a  quivering  voice. 
"I  hate  her,  Madge  1" 

And  nothing  could  change  him.  When  his  step 
mother  tried  to  be  kind,  he  was  cool;  and  when  she 
tried  to  discipline,  he  would  glare  at  her  and  leave 
the  house.  Often  he  would  go  and  stay  with  his 
Aunt  Abby  Dwight  for  weeks  at  a  time.  He  kept 
away  from  home  more  and  more,  as  he  grew  into 
his  teens;  and  before  he  was  twenty  he  went  to  New 
York.  Madge  barely  saw  him  after  that.  As  she 
grew  older  she  was  told  that  he  was  getting  on 
splendidly,  in  a  business  which  had  to  do  with  ships; 
but  except  for  an  occasional  letter,  and  a  gift  at 
Christmas,  he  showed  no  interest  in  her  life. 

Their  father,  in  the  meantime,  had  put  every  dol 
lar  belonging  to  his  second  wife  into  a  stud  farm, 
near  their  home.  He  loved  fine  horses  and  he  liked 
to  take  Madge  about  with  him  on  the  farm,  or  for 
rides  far  up  the  river  to  a  favorite  sandy  point  of 
theirs,  where  they  would  cook  supper  in  the  dusk 
and  then  ride  home  by  moonlight.  An  easy-going, 
lovable  man — but  he  had  no  business  head;  and  he 
managed  the  farm  so  badly  that  he  was  in  debt  at 
the  time  of  his  death.  Madge  and  her  mother  went 
through  some  hard  times;  and  when  a  few  years 
later  Mrs.  Cable  suddenly  died,  the  house  was  so 


6  MILLIONS 

heavily    mortgaged    that,    taking   her    Uncle    Phil 
Cable's  advice,  Madge  made  up  her  mind  to  sell  it. 

It  seemed  to  her  in  the  next  few  years  that  she 
was  making  a  splendid  start.  She  lived  with  her 
Uncle  Phil  at  first  and  then  went  to  a  business  col 
lege  in  Troy.  For  deep  down  in  Madge  was  that 
secret  spring  of  hopes  and  dreams  which  is  in  every 
American  breast — though  often  it  is  buried  by  hard 
realities  so  deep  as  to  be  no  longer  known,  even  to 
its  possessor — the  hope  of  becoming  Somebody,  the 
dream  of  becoming  rich  and  great.  And  her 
brother's  example  was  always  before  her.  She  was 
proud  of  Gordon's  success,  in  spite  of  his  neglect  of 
her,  and  she  felt  she  had  the  same  business  instinct. 

"If  he  can  do  it,  why  can't  I?" 

^  The  Woman's  Movement  was  then  in  the  air,  and 
she  applied  it  to  her  own  life.  She  did  not  care  very 
much  for  the  Vote,  but  the  idea  of  earning  her  way 
as  a  business  woman  appealed  to  her.  Her  friends 
made  fun  of  it  at  first.  She  was  bright  enough, 
but  so  very  small — "about  the  size  of  a  peanut,"  they 
said — and  so  altogether  feminine;  she  had  such 
lovely  soft  brown  hair,  she  did  so  love  a  pretty 
gown;  and  at  dances  she  invariably  had  some  man 
waiting  to  see  her  home.  But  in  spite  of  this  she 
kept  to  her  plan.  On  coming  back  to  Halesburg  she 


MILLIONS  7 

had  promptly  taken  a  job  in  Hale  and  Pritchett's 
Emporium.  It  was  a  drowsy  old  concern,  but  her 
business  instincts  were  stirred  by  the  thought  of 
gradually  building  it  up  into  a  real  department  store. 
The  town  at  that  time  showed  some  signs  of  waking 
up  from  its  long  sleep.  The  wholesale  houses  sent 
in  their  men,  and  Madge  grew  absorbed  in  study 
ing  the  many  possibilities.  The  changing  styles  from 
year  to  year  took  hold  of  her  imagination.  Her 
employers  listened  to  her  plans,  raised  her  sal 
ary  every  year  and  gave  her  hopes  that  soon  she 
would  be  one  of  the  firm.  She  did  not  stop  to  con 
sider  that  this  might  be  on  her  brother's  account, 
and  the  prospect  of  his  backing.  She  put  it  down 
to  her  own  hard  work  and  enterprise. 

About  five  years  went  quickly  by;  and  by  1917, 
when  she  was  twenty-seven,  she  had  become  cashier 
in  the  store  and  was  earning  twenty-two  dollars  a 
week. 

Then  the  Great  War  came  to  America;  and 
Madge  went  into  the  Red  Cross.  It  was  soon  af 
ter  this  that  she  heard  from  her  brother — after  a 
lapse  of  several  years.  Though  she  knew  that  since 
the  war  began  he  had  been  making  money  fast  with 
a  score  of  old  vessels  which  he  bought  just  before 
the  prices  soared,  Gordon  had  not  written  her  once. 


8  MILLIONS 

But  he  joined  up  now  as  a  volunteer,  and  a  few 
months  later,  before  he  sailed,  he  wrote  her  a  let 
ter  in  which  he  said, 

"I  have  been  a  pretty  poor  brother,  Madge.  You 
did  not  seem  to  need  me  and  we  just  somehow  got 
apart.  But  I  want  you  to  know  that  in  case  the 
Fritzies  get  me  I  have  left  you  what  I  have — and 
I  want  you  to  write  to  me  if  you  will.  It's  good  to 
feel  there's  somebody  at  home." 

Back  with  a  rush  came  her  old  affection.  She 
wrote  to  Gordon  often,  though  he  barely  ever  re 
plied;  and  she  spoke  of  him  to  her  friends,  and  even 
confided  to  a  few  what  he  had  said  in  that  letter  of 
his.  The  story  spread  all  over  town  that  if  Gordon 
was  killed  Madge  would  be  rich,  and  she  soon  felt 
her  importance  rise.  She  worked  day  and  night  at 
her  war  job,  and  within  a  year  she  was  at  the  head 
of  the  local  Red  Cross  activities. 

But  this  was  the  height  of  her  early  rise.  For 
though  after  the  war  her  old  firm  took  her  back,  it 
was  soon  plainly  hinted  that  if  she  expected  further 
advance  her  brother's  support  must  be  forthcoming. 

There  followed  some  grim  months  for  Madge. 
She  would  not  ask  her  brother  to  help  her.  Though 
he  had  been  home  from  France  for  months,  he  had 
not  taken  the  trouble  to  see  her  or  even  ask  her 


MILLIONS  9l 

down  to  New  York ;  he  had  merely  written  her  that 
he  was  back.  And  deeply  hurt  at  his  neglect — af 
ter  all  those  letters  she  had  written  him  in  France, 
and  after  all  they  had  meant  to  each  other  in  the 
years  when  they  were  small — she  would  not  ask 
him  for  his  aid. 

Her  sense  of  injustice  was  soon  increased  by  the 
news  of  his  prosperity,  for  Gordon  was  piling  up 
money  now  at  a  perfectly  fabulous  speed.  At  least 
so  it  was  rumored  at  home,  for  citizens  of  Hales- 
burg  went  to  New  York  and  brought  back  tales  of 
his  imposing  offices  and  the  business  he  was  doing 
in  the  boom  which  followed  the  war.  The  next 
autumn  he  wrote  again  to  Madge,  to  ask  if  he  could 
not  help  her;  but  he  did  not  invite  her  down  to  New 
York,  nor  did  he  come  to  see  her.  And  so  she 
replied, 

"No,  thank  you,  Gordon,  I  am  doing  quite  well 
as  I  am." 

But  she  was  not  doing  well  at  all.  The  mere  idea 
that  all  that  rapid  rise  of  hers  in  Hale  and  Prit- 
chett's  drygoods  store,  had  been  due  to  the  pros 
pect  of  his  support  and  not  to  her  own  abilities,  first 
angered  her  and  then  by  degrees  it  sapped  her  self- 
reliance.  So  she  stayed  at  the  cashier's  desk;  and 
in  the  months  and  years  which  followed,  that  sense 


10  MILLIONS 

of  her  own  limitations  began  in  her  and  steadily 
grew.  It  came  not  only  from  the  difference  in  her 
position  at  the  store;  her  position  in  the  life  of  the 
town  had  changed  as  well.  Those  women — and  they 
were  not  a  few — who  had  been  jealous  of  her  rise 
to  such  prominence  during  the  war,  now  smiled  at 
her  rich  brother's  neglect  and  at  the  very  apparent 
collapse  of  her  grand  dreams  for  a  business  career. 
They  soon  "made  her  feel  her  place."  And  though 
she  still  held  high  her  head,  in  the  face  of  their 
mute  derision,  the  effect  of  all  this  cut  very  deep. 

Three  years  went  by,  and  at  thirty-two  she  found 
herself,  with  a  school  teacher  friend,  Amanda 
Berry,  living  in  a  little  flat  up  over  a  small  furni 
ture  store,  with  steep  varnished  stairs  leading  up  to 
their  door.  And  she  saw  no  other  home  ahead. 
One  by  one  in  the  last  ten  years  her  men  friends 
had  dropped  away.  With  Amanda  she  still  went 
to  parties  and  church  sociables,  but  the  men  she  met 
were  either  hopelessly  settled  for  life  or  else  they 
seemed  to  her  mere  boys.  She  had  taught  them 
once  in  Sunday  School. 

The  events  of  her  daily  existence,  however, 
interested  her  keenly  at  times,  for  she  was  alert  and 
observant  still,  and  with  sharp  humor  from  her 
niche  she  looked  out  on  this  queer  world  of  to-day, 


MILLIONS  II 

which  even  in  Halesburg  was  now  filled  with  such 
swiftly  changing  lives.  For  the  telephones  and  the 
automobiles,  the  Sunday  papers  and  picture  shows, 
had  all  been  pouring  into  the  town  a  restless  deep 
ening  fever  of  change.  Old  ways  and  standards 
dropped  behind.  Aunt  Abby  Dwight  had  been  a 
minister's  wife.  Her  son  Ray  worked  in  a  garage 
and  went  to  the  movies  on  Sunday  night.  Madge 
herself  had  left  behind  the  lovely  old  home  on  the 
river  bank,  and  often  now  it  seemed  to  her  as 
though  she  were  merely  camping  out,  in  this  cheap 
flat  with  its  varnished  stairs — she  felt  herself  be 
twixt  and  between. 

To  what  was  she  going?  "Well,  we'll  see."  She 
faced  the  future  without  dismay,  nursed  her  indepen 
dence  and  kept  her  feelings  to  herself — all  kinds  of 
feelings — some  of  them  quite  old  and  familiar,  so 
that  she  understood  them  well;  others  new  to  her 
and  disturbing,  having  to  do  with  babies,  men.  They 
had  come  since  the  collapse  of  her  vision  of  a  career, 
and  were  not  to  be  faced  but  to  be  kept  down,  even 
with  Amanda  Berry,  though  they  had  long  talks 
about  everything  else,  considered  themselves  very 
modern  indeed,  and  would  have  laughed  if  anyone 
had  told  them  they  were  Puritans. 

They  still  got  a  good  deal  of  fun  out  of  each 


12  MILLIONS 

day's  existence,  and  they  smiled  to  one  another  over 
the  way  in  which  they  were  slowly  being  forced 
by  the  life  of  the  town  into  corners — as  mere  spin 
sters.  For  they  knew  that  it  would  not  be  so. 
Spinsters?  Yes.  But  corners?  No!  They  still 
took  pains  about  their  clothes;  and  Amanda,  who 
had  worked  for  Hoover,  had  applied  for  jobs  for 
them  both  in  the  work  of  European  relief.  Oh,  no, 
they  were  not  beaten  yet  I 

Amanda  was  a  big-boned  creature  of  thirty-five, 
goodnatured  and  kind,  with  a  rich  easy  laugh  which 
hid  a  decided  mind  of  her  own.  Madge  was  a  slen 
der  little  thing  with  a  good  figure,  thin  resolute  lips 
and  blue-grey  eyes  set  wide  apart,  and  she  still  had 
lovely  hair.  But  in  spite  of  that  her  appearance 
was  becoming  rather  prim — and  this  to  a  very  large 
degree  was  caused  by  the  mask  of  composure,  al 
most  severe,  with  which  she  had  hidden  her  feel 
ings  since  the  turn  of  her  career,  and  which  she  as 
sumed  unconsciously  whenever  she  was  excited,  dis 
turbed,  uncertain  of  herself  or  afraid. 

3 

And  with  all  these  emotions  now — here  in  New 
York,  in  her  brother's  apartment — she  sat  perfectly 
still,  with  her  thin  lips  half  parted,  then  compressed 


MI  L  LTQ  NS  13 

again.  She  was  frowning  slightly — overwhelmed. 
To  be  wrenched  away  from  her  corner  and  dropped 
so  suddenly  into  this !  She  wished  that  her  Uncle 
Phil  had  come  with  her.  Before  leaving  home  she 
had  just  had  time  to  telephone  and  give  him  the 
news.  He  had  gone  with  her  to  the  train  and  had 
said  that  he  would  telegraph  the  time  of  her  arrival 
to  Gordon's  partner  in  New  York.  But  Mr.  Evans 
had  not  been  here. 

In  a  few  moments  Madge  looked  up  with  a  char 
acteristic  quick  slight  turn  of  her  small  head.  The 
nurse  had  come  out  of  Gordon's  room. 

"I  can  leave  him  now  for  a  minute,"  she  said.  "Is 
there  anything  that  I  can  do?" 

As  she  spoke,  Madge  felt  the  bright  curious  eyes 
of  the  pretty  young  New  Yorker  taking  in  every  de 
tail  of  her  clothes,  taking  her  measure  generally. 

"No,  thank  you."  Her  low  clear  enunciation  had 
a  distinctive  quality  which  drew  a  little  look  from  the 
nurse.  But  she  was  quite  used  to  that.  People  so 
often  noticed  it.  Her  thoughts  returned  to  her 
brother's  partner. 

"Has  Mr.  Evans  been  here?"  she  asked. 

"Not  since  early  this  morning." 

Madge  gave  a  slight  frown  of  surprise. 

"Not  since  then?" 


14  MILLIONS 

"Oh,  he  has  been  calling  up,  about  every  hour  or 
so.  But  there  wasn't  anything  he  could  do — and  he 
told  me  that  his  business  would  keep  him  at  the  of 
fice  all  day." 

"Sunday?" 

The  young  nurse  smiled  at  that. 

"He  told  me  that  your  brother  and  he  had  been 
rushed  to  death  with  work  all  week.  Mr.  Evans 
looks  half  sick  himself."  She  paused,  but  Madge 
said  nothing.  "He  said  you  were  to  have  his  room. 
He  lives  here  with  your  brother,  you  know." 

"I  see." 

"Shall  I  show  you  which  it  is?  I  think  dinner 
will  be  ready  soon,"  she  said;  and  a  glance  of  im 
patience  seemed  to  add,  "Look  here,  this  is  your 
affair — you  ought  to  be  taking  charge,  you  know." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Madge.  She  hesitated. 
"What  is  your  name?" 

"Cochran." 

"I  see.    Now  if  you  will  show  me  the  room " 

And  there,  when  she  was  left  alone,  she  began 
methodically  to  unpack  her  suit  case.  But  as  she 
moved  about  the  room  she  stopped  all  at  once  with 
a  slight  start.  Between  the  bureau  and  the  desk 
was  a  wide  low  window.  The  shade  was  up,  and 
the  view  down  into  the  sparkling  night  made  her 


MILLIONS  15 

draw  in  her  breath  with  a  gasp.  She  drew  nearer  and 
stood  staring  down — here  into  shadowy  regions  and 
there  into  regions  bathed  in  light.  The  very  clouds 
which  rolled  above  were  rosy  and  warm,  and  the 
whole  weird  vault  of  the  heavens  seemed  to  quiver 
from  the  glow  of  the  numberless  human  lives  be 
neath.  On  the  train  that  afternoon,  the  thought 
had  come  to  her,  "If  he  dies,  I  suppose  I'll  stay  in 
New  York.  I'll  have  to,  for  a  time  at  least."  The 
idea  came  to  her  now  again,  and  with  it  rose  the 
memory  of  the  letter  he  had  written  her  just  before 
he  sailed  for  France.  With  a  kind  of  a  pang,  she 
thought,  "He  doesn't  really  care  for  me.  I  mean 
little  or  nothing  to  him  any  more.  It  may  even 
have  slipped  his  mind  that  he  ever  wrote  such  a 
letter  at  all,  or  made  such  a  will.  Yet  now  if  he 

dies "     Her  lips  closed  tight,  almost  with  pain. 

"Oh,  it's  funny— funny!" 

Staring  down  into  the  city  night,  she  saw  a  new 
world  waiting  there — disturbing,  strange,  exciting. 
Something  dynamic  within  herself  leaped  up  in  re 
sponse.  "Millions!  What  would  I  do  with  it?" 
Slowly  she  turned  to  her  travelling  bag  and  went  on 
unpacking;  but  as  she  put  some  things  on  the  bureau, 
the  sight  of  her  face  in  the  mirror  made  her  stop  and 
stare  again.  "Quite  a  change  in  your  life,  young 


l6  MILLIONS 

woman  1"  She  finished  putting  away  her  things, 
slowly  tidied  her  beautiful  hair,  and  then  went  in 
to  supper. 

She  found  Miss  Cochran  waiting. 

"The  night  nurse  has  just  come,"  she  said,  as 
though  in  excuse  for  being  there. 

"I  see,"  said  Madge.  To  herself  she  thought, 
"Two  nurses.  Yes,  I  suppose  they  do  have  two — 
when  a  man  is  rich  as  Gordon  is."  There  were  two 
places  set  at  the  table.  Madge  took  one,  and  the 
nurse  the  other.  "Now  I  wonder,"  Madge  was  ask 
ing  herself,  "whether  she'd  come  to  meals  like  this 
if  I  were  a  New  Yorker?  Would  she  if  I  were  Gor 
don's  wife?  Or  is  it  because  she  has  put  me  down 
as  a  little  gawk  from  a  small  town  who  wouldn't 
know  about  such  things?" 

During  the  meal  they  were  silent  at  first,  for 
Madge  felt  awkward  and  ill  at  ease.  It  was  all  so 
different  here.  Although  she  had  taken  no  lunch  that 
day,  she  did  not  feel  like  eating  now;  but  she  did 
so,  mechanically.  At  home  she  had  always  gone  to 
her  uncle's  for  a  cold  supper  on  Sunday  night,  at 
six  o'clock,  before  going  to  church.  Here  was  a 
regular  dinner  instead — a  real  man's  meal,  with  sev 
eral  courses,  served  by  the  old  colored  man,  who 
wore  a  crisp  white  jacket  now.  She  wondered  if  he 


MILLIONS  17 

cooked  as  well.  As  the  meal  progressed,  she  guessed 
that  he  did.  "And  he  probably  does  the  marketing, 
too."  The  way  he  served,  and  the  various  dishes, 
the  linen  and  the  silver  gleaming  on  the  sideboard, 
the  decanter  half  filled  with  whiskey  there,  all  be 
gan  to  attract  her  attention.  But  all  the  time  she 
was  conscious  of  an  effort  to  keep  Miss  Cochran 
from  seeing  how  new  it  was  to  her.  From  behind 
her  mask  of  composure,  she  threw  a  look  of  dislike 
at  the  girl,  whose  very  obvious  appetite  was  a  jar 
at  a  time  like  this.  Suddenly  all  Madge's  thoughts 
went  back  to  her  brother.  Abruptly  she  spoke,  in 
her  low  clear  voice: 

"Will  the  doctor  come  again  to-night ?" 

"No — he  was  here  this  afternoon — just  a  few 
minutes  before  you  arrived." 

"What  did  you  say  his  name  was?" 

"Hoyt.  He's  a  wonderful  surgeon — one  of  the 
best  of  the  younger  men."  And  the  nurse  went  on  to 
tell  of  his  marvellous  record  in  France,  where  she 
had  worked  with  him  during  the  war.  Madge  lis 
tened,  impassive.  The  nurse  was  more  than  pretty; 
she  looked  really  able  and  smart,  and  she  had  small 
clever  hands.  Madge  had  a  habit  of  noticing  hands. 
"Clever — yes — but  so  cheerful!"  she  thought,  with 
a  return  of  her  dislike.  But  she  dismissed  it.  "Well, 


18  MILLIONS 

why  not?"  she  asked  herself.  "What  is  Gordon  to 
her?  A  stranger,  that's  all.  And  when  you  come  to 
think  of  it,  he's  little  more  than  that  to  me."  In  a 
flash  a  picture  came  of  the  gaunt  white  figure  in  the 
next  room,  and  her  lips  set  hard.  "Poor  Gordon !" 

Then  by  degrees  her  attention  came  back  to  the 
nurse,  who  was  talking  on,  and  she  watched  her 
again  attentively.  The  girl  was  a  blonde ;  her  glossy 
hair  had  been  bobbed  and  curled  by  a  coiffeur,  and 
her  pretty  face  was  plump  and  sleek.  "I'll  bet  she's 
every  bit  my  age.  How  young  looking  these  women 
here  manage  to  keep  themselves,"  thought  Madge. 
"I  wonder  how  they  do  it?"  And  looking  down 
at  her  plate  she  added,  "My  salary  at  home  is  prob 
ably  just  the  same  as  hers — or  maybe  less.  Yet  now 
— in  a  few  hours " 

Angrily  she  dismissed  the  idea,  kept  down  the 
rush  of  excitement,  and  forced  herself  to  listen.  The 
nurse  was  still  speaking  of  Doctor  Hoyt. 

"It's  a  great  comfort  to  have  him  on  a  case  like 
this,"  she  said.  "You  can  leave  it  all  in  his  hands 
absolutely,  and  know  that  the  best  is  being  done." 

"Yes,"  said  Madge.  "That's  it,"  she  thought, 
"there's  really  nothing  for  me  to  decide."  The 
knowledge  brought  a  sense  of  relief  and  then  again 
that  numb  sensation,  as  though  she  were  passively 


MILLIONS  19 

drifting  on  to  some  tremendous  change  in  her  life. 
As  to  the  event  which  would  cause  it  all,  in  the  cool 
dim  room  close  by,  the  nurse  seemed  to  have  made 
up  her  mind;  for  by  her  inquisitive  questions  now 
she  was  plainly  trying  to  find  out  what  other  rela 
tives  Gordon  had,  who  might  take  charge  when  the 
crisis  came.  Madge's  answers  became  brief.  "It's 
none  of  her  business,  what  I  was — or  what  I  am  or 
am  going  to  be  1"  Besides,  the  meal  was  at  an  end. 
The  old  colored  servant  came  to  her  chair,  and  in  a 
solicitous  tone  he  asked, 

"Will  you-all  have  you'  coffee  heah,  or  in  the 
othah  room,  Miss  Cable?" 

"Here,"  said  Madge.  The  old  man's  deference 
went  into  her  with  a  little  thrill.  It  was  so  very 
new  to  her.  And  she  noticed  now  that  Miss  Coch- 
ran,  having  fully  sized  her  up,  was  taking  the  same 
deferential  tone. 

"Is  there  anything  at  all  that  I  can  do  before  I 
go?"  she  asked,  as  she  rose  from  the  table.  With  a 
slight  turn  of  her  small  head,  Madge  inquired, 

"Oh — are  you  going?" 

"Yes,  for  the  night.  There's  no  need  of  my  stay 
ing,  you  know,  with  the  night  nurse  here.  Her 
name  is  Miss  Field.  Would  you  like  to  see  her?" 

"Yes " 


20  MILLIONS 

"Shall  I  ask  her  to  come  out?" 

"No — I'll  be  in  there  pretty  soon." 

The  nurse  went  into  the  sickroom,  and  presently 
Madge  could  hear  her  talking  in  a  brisk  vivacious 
voice  while  she  moved  about  changing  her  clothes. 
What  business  had  she  talking  like  that,  in  a  sick 
room?  Now  she  was  telling  the  other  nurse  that  she 
was  going  with  some  man  to  the  movies  and  later  to 
a  cafe,  to  dance.  The  angry  tears  came  in  Madge's 
eyes.  She  asked,  "Is  there  no  one  who  cares  about 
Gordon?  Hasn't  he  anyone  at  all  who  is  anxious 
and  unhappy  to-night?"  She  felt  a  rush  of  pity  and 
of  indignation.  There  came  a  sudden  memory  of  a 
day  on  the  river  long  ago  when  he  had  a  cramp  and 
just  in  time  she  threw  him  a  rope  from  the  end  of  a 
pier.  "I'm  here  to  see  that  he  lives !"  she  thought. 
"I  tell  you  he's  going  to  pull  through!"  With  a 
constriction  in  her  throat,  she  rose  to  go  in  and  stop 
that  talking!  But  just  as  she  did  so,  Miss  Cochran 
came  out,  fresh,  trim  and  gay,  for  her  evening. 

"Good  night,  Miss  Cable,"  she  said,  brightly.  "I 
hope  your  brother  does  finely  to-night." 

"Thank  you.    Good  night." 

At  her  curt  tone,  she  caught  a  look  of  surprise 
from  the  nurse,  but  she  went  on  into  Gordon's  room. 

The  room  was  cool  and  dim  as  before,  and  he 


MILLIONS  21 

looked  like  a  dead  man  there.  The  night  nurse  sat 
reading  the  chart.  Miss  Field  was  a  woman  of  mid 
dle  age,  rather  stout,  and  she  wore  glasses  over  quiet 
keen  grey  eyes.  She  did  not  notice  Madge  by  the 
door.  Presently  she  went  to  the  bed  and  took  his 
pulse  and  his  respiration.  After  that  she  stood  for  a 
moment  looking  intently  down  at  his  face.  As  she 
moved  away,  she  caught  sight  of  Madge. 

"Good  evening,"  she  said,  pleasantly.  She  did  not 
lower  her  natural  voice,  and  again  Madge  felt  a 
shock  of  surprise. 

"Good  evening,"  she  answered,  in  a  voice  which 
was  almost  a  whisper.  The  older  woman  smiled  and 
said, 

"There's  no  need  of  speaking  so  low,  Miss  Cable. 
Your  poor  brother  couldn't  hear  if  we  shouted." 
As  she  spoke,  she  went  to  the  chart  on  the  table  and 
entered  the  observations  she'd  made.  "His  condi 
tion  seems  about  the  same  as  it  was  when  I  left  this 
morning,^  she  said.  "The  doctor  can't  be  certain 
yet  whether  it's  concussion  or  compression,"  she  went 
on. 

"Compression?    What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

"Well,  it's  a  good  deal  more  serious.  If  it's  that, 
they  may  have  to  operate."  Miss  Field  went  on  to 
give  details.  "There's  nothing  to  do  but  wait,"  she 


22  MILLIONS 

ended.  "I'll  do  everything  to-night — so  I'd  try 
not  to  worry  if  I  were  you."  Madge  had  seated 
herself  by  the  window.  The  older  woman  looked  at 
her  and  asked,  "Hadn't  you  better  get  some  rest? 
I'll  call  you  if  there's  any  change — and  of  course  I 
can  always  reach  the  doctor  any  minute  on  the 
'phone." 

"Very  well,"  Madge  answered,  "if  you'll  be  sure 
to  call  me." 

No,  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  wait.  She  went 
back  into  the  living  room;  and  after  sitting  there  a 
while  her  alert  observant  eyes  began  to  noli£e  things 
in  the  room — rugs,  curtains,  heavy  leather  chairs, 
pictures,  books  and  magazines,  the  Sunday  papers,  a 
piano.  She  went  and  began  to  look  over  the  music. 
She  had  always  loved  good  music.  She  played  the 
piano  rather  well  and  prided  herself  on  keeping  in 
touch  with  the  latest  news  in  the  music  world.  Here 
she  found  a  conglomeration  of  Debussy,  Grieg  and 
jazz.  Who  was  it  that  played,  she  wondered — Gor 
don  or  his  partner?  Or  had  there  been  somebody 
else?  Suddenly  she  noticed  a  large  photograph  of  a 
gorgeous  creature  with  dark  hair  and  lustrous  eyes. 
She  frowned. 

"Now  who  is  she?" 

She  came  close  and  looked  attentively  at  the  big 


MILLIONS  23 

gay  challenging  eyes.  A  signature  was  scrawled  be 
low,  but  she  could  not  make  it  out.  She  had  not 
thought  of  his  women  friends.  What  had  happened 
in  this  room,  she  asked,  what  kind  of  people  had 
been  here?  Just  for  a  moment,  with  a  rush,  there 
poured  into  her  a  sense  of  warm  pulsing  joyous  life 
— it  seemed  almost  to  be  here  still!  With  a  rising 
curiosity,  which  she  welcomed  as  a  relief  from  her 
mood  of  a  few  minutes  before,  she  went  into  the 
small  study  adjoining  and  glanced  at  some  of  the 
books  on  the  shelves,  at  the  pictures  of  ships  upon  the 
walls  and  a  poster  of  a  group  of  gunners  shooting 
at  a  U-Boat.  On  her  brother's  table  desk  were  some 
letters  and  a  telegram.  Should  she  open  them?  No, 
she  decided.  She  came  back  into  the  other  room  and 
again  began  to  look  about,  but  could  get  no  sense 
of  what  had  been  here.  Home?  It  was  no  more 
a  home  than  her  own  small  cheap  apartment.  Just 
a  place  betwixt  and  between.  Two  men  had  lived 
here  for  a  time — lived  warm,  lavish,  careless  lives. 
And  both  were  utter  strangers. 

In  her  keyed  up  condition  seeking  desperately  for 
ties  to  bring  Gordon  closer  to  herself,  again  there 
came  a  memory,  from  more  than  twenty  years  ago, 
of  another  Sunday  evening.  Their  parents  had  gone 
off  to  church,  and  Gordon  and  she  had  slipped  out 


24  MILLIONS 

of  bed  and  scampered  down  the  high  wooded  bank 
to  the  river.  It  was  an  August  night.  How  cool  and 
soft  the  water  had  felt  to  their  feet  as  they  waded 
along  the  shore,  thrilled  by  the  adventure.  Then 
she  had  suddenly  been  afraid,  and  had  scampered  up 
and  back  to  the  house. 

Once  more  a  wave  of  compassion  for  her  half- 
brother  swept  over  her  now,  but  it  was  followed 
quickly  by  a  feeling  of  dismay  and  of  utter  loneli 
ness.  "I'm  not  needed  now,  but  the  moment  he  dies 
I'll  have  to  take  charge — of  everything!"  Abruptly, 
almost  fiercely,  she  turned  her  thoughts  away  from 
that.  "Now  we're  not  to  be  morbid!"  And  sit 
ting  there,  she  grew  numb  again.  But  presently  she 
found  her  thoughts  turning  to  the  future.  "If  I  had 
all  that  money,  what  would  I  do?  How  would  I 
live?"  By  degrees  from  her  subconscious  depths, 
where  they  had  long  been  buried,  up  came  the  ar 
dent  hopes  and  dreams  and  tingling  desires.  So 
much  she  had  wanted  to  do  and  be !  Life  ?  It  would 
be  just  beginning ! 

With  a  queer  strained  little  laugh,  Madge  rose 
from  her  seat  and  walked  the  room.  Again  she 
forced  herself  to  be  sane,  but  again  the  thoughts 
came  crowding  in.  She  had  often  dreamed  of  the 
One  Great  Chance  which  would  suddenly  come  to 


MILLIONS  25 

her.    But  to  have  it  come  in  this  way — in  this  way ! 
It  was  ghastly  I 

"I  don't  want  it  I  He'll  live,  I  tell  you  I  He's  not 
going  to  die  to-night!" 

4 

She  heard  a  key  turning  in  the  door,  looked  around 
with  a  startled  jerk  of  her  head  and  then  stood  wait 
ing.  A  man  came  into  the  hall  outside  and  took  off 
his  hat  and  coat.  Then  he  loomed  in  the  doorway, 
tall,  heavy  shouldered,  still  rather  young,  with  a 
blunt  heavy  anxious  face  and  appealing  boyish  eyes. 
When  he  saw  her,  he  smiled  and  said,  in  a  soft 
Southern  voice, 

"I  reckon  you  are  Gordon's  sister." 

"Yes " 

"I'm  Joe  Evans.  Howdado.  Gordon's  partner, 
you  know."  He  came  in  and  took  her  hand.  "I'm 
right  glad  you're  here,  Miss  Cable.  How  is  he 
now?"  he  asked  her. 

"No  worse,  they  say." 

She  saw  a  slight  quiver  come  on  his  lips.  His 
mouth  was  heavy  but  sensitive.  Abruptly  he  turned 
away  from  her  with  a  little  gesture  of  his  hands, 
and  she  darted  a  quick  look  at  them.  They  were  so 
big  and  clumsy,  helpless.  In  a  moment  he  recov 
ered  himself. 


26  MILLIONS 

"I'm  right  sorry  I  couldn't  be  here  when  you 
came,  but  I  jest  couldn't  manage  to  get  away  from 
the  office,"  he  said.  "Things  have  been  piling  up 
on  us  there  till  a  man  can't  call  his  soul  his  own. 
These  are  right  ticklish  times,  you  know.  And  now 

with  Gordon  out  of  it "  he  stopped,  and  added 

softly,  "I  sure  am  glad  that  you  are  here." 

She  smiled  back  at  him  pityingly. 

"We'll  do  the  best  we  can,"  she  said. 

He  began  to  tell  her  now  what  he  had  done  the 
night  before — of  the  trouble  he'd  had  at  that  hour 
of  night  in  finding  out  about  a  good  surgeon  and  get 
ting  him  here,  in  getting  a  nurse,  in  deciding  upon 
whether  or  not  to  take  Gordon  to  a  hospital.  As 
he  talked  on,  he  would  stop  and  frown  and  try  to  re 
member  what  else  there  was  that  she  ought  to  know. 
As  she  listened,  quite  unconsciously  Madge  was  smil 
ing  slightly  still,  feeling  with  a  little  glow  that  here 
was  something  she  could  do.  For  she  saw  that  like 
herself  he  had  been  desperately  alone  in  this,  and 
that  now  he  wanted  to  be  reassured  and  praised  a 
bit  for  what  he  had  done. 

"It  seems  to  me  quite  wonderful,"  she  told  him, 
"how  you've  managed  it  all." 

As  she  went  on,  in  a  quiet  tone,  she  satisfied  both 
him  and  herself  that  everything  possible  had  been 


MILLIONS  27 

done ;  and  in  the  relief  that  came  to  them,  they  felt 
drawn  to  one  another. 

Joe  Evans  sank  into  a  big  leather  chair. 

"Do  you  mind  if  I  smoke  ?"  he  asked  her. 

"No,"  she  said. 

He  took  out  some  tobacco  and  began  to  roll  a 
cigarette.  With  his  mind  still  on  the  disaster,  he 
told  what  the  surgeon  had  said  of  the  case.  Again 
feeling  he  wished  to  be  reassured,  she  played  her 
part;  and  with  a  feeling  half  of  dismay  she  saw  how 
he  deferred  to  her.  Plainly  he  was  putting  all  re 
sponsibility  on  herself.  He  showed  he  felt  he  could 
count  on  her.  And  so  few  people  had  treated  her 
like  that,  in  these  last  years.  The  dismay  soon  left 
her  and  she  felt  a  return  of  her  old  self  confidence. 
She  began  to  learn  more  about  him  now,  though  they 
were  talking  of  Gordon  still.  As  he  spoke  of  how 
for  the  last  few  weeks  they  had  been  working  day 
and  night,  her  eyes  went  to  the  piano  and  the  large 
photograph  of  the  girl.  Madge  wanted  to  ask 
whose  friend  the  girl  was — but  instead  of  that  she 
inquired, 

"How  long  have  you  known  my  brother?" 

"Why — about  five  years,  I  reckon.  We  got  to 
gether  over  in  France.  Both  in  the  same  regiment.- 
We  sure  did  have  some  scrumptious  times." 


28  MILLIONS 

"But  how  did  you  ever  happen,"  she  asked,  "to 
be  in  the  same  regiment?  You're  a  Southerner, 
aren't  you?" 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  was  born  in  Tennessee — and 
then  went  out  to  Texas.  But  when  we-all  went  into 
the  war  I  was  in  New  York  on  some  business — so  I 
signed  up  for  Plattsburg  here."  He  went  on  to  speak 
of  his  meeting  with  Gordon  and  of  their  life  together 
in  France.  "You  wouldn't  think  to  look  at  him  that 
he  was  such  a  real  he  man — but  Lordy  Hallelujah, 
how  he  could  drive  a  lot  of  men.  It's  the  same  way 
in  his  business." 

"Have  you  been  his  partner  long?" 

"No,  only  a  little  over  a  year — but  we've  been 
livin'  together  ever  since  we  got  our  discharge.  He 
took  me  into  his  office  then  and  gave  me  a  right 
speedy  education  in  finance.  He  had  an  idea  I'd 
helped  him  some,  one  night  when  he  got  hit  in 
France — but  what  I  did  was  nothin'  at  all  when 
you  think  what  he  has  done  for  me.  I  owe  him 
jest  everything,"  said  Joe,  and  he  went  on  to  give 
details. 

But  Madge  paid  slight  heed  to  that.  Her  atten 
tion  was  drawn  to  his  hands  and  his  eyes.  Again 
she  felt  what  a  strain  he'd  been  through  and  his  re 
lief  to  have  her  here,  his  awakening  interest  in  her- 


MILLIONS  29 

self.  He  began  to  ask  her  questions  now.  Ap 
parently  Gordon  had  told  him  little  or  nothing  about 
his  family;  and  as  Madge  began  to  explain,  she  could 
feel  by  his  questions  how  he  wished  to  have  Gordon 
excused  for  neglecting  her.  So  she  made  it  appear 
quite  natural. 

"You  see,"  she  said,  "we're  Southerners,  too — 
or  at  least  our  father  was.  Poor  Dad  was  a  little 
boy  in  Virginia  during  the  Civil  War — and  his  fam 
ily  lost  everything — and  after  some  terribly  difficult 
times  at  last  he  came  up  north  with  his  wife  and 
Gordon,  who  had  just  been  born.  A  little  later  his 
wife  died — and  then  my  father  married  again — my 
mother,  you  see — and  I  was  born  in  Mother's  old 
home."  In  an  eager  tone  she  described  the  house, 
and  she  could  feel  him  listen  intently.  She  spoke  of 
the  good  times  they  had  had,  then  told  of  "poor  Gor 
don's  trouble  at  home"  and  of  how  at  last  he  had 
gone  away.  She  said  nothing  of  his  neglect  of  her 
since,  or  the  lean  years  she  had  been  through,  but 
dwelt  instead  on  his  Christmas  gifts  and  the  times 
when  he  had  offered  his  aid.  "But  I  wanted  to  make 
my  own  way,  you  see.  So  we  just  naturally  drifted 
apart." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence. 

"Well,"  said  Joe,   "he's   a  lucky  man  to   have 


30  MILLIONS 

a  little  sister  still — to  call  on  at  a  time  like 
this." 

"Oh,  I'm  afraid  I  can't  be  of  much  use,  but  I'm 
glad  you  sent  for  me,"  she  said. 

She  could  see  he  was  thinking  of  leaving  now, 
and  she  dreaded  being  left  alone. 

"It's  funny,  isn't  it,"  she  remarked,  "how  most  of 
us  Americans  seem  to  be  just  drifting  around.  Our 
family  was  in  Virginia  for  about  two  hundred  years. 
Then  all  of  a  sudden  Dad  comes  north — and  later 
Gordon  conies  to  New  York — and  from  there  he 
goes  to  France — and  meets  you  there — from  Texas 
' — and  you  were  born  in  Tennessee."  She  broke  off 
with  a  little  laugh. 

"Yes — we  sure  do  move,"  he  said.  "I  haven't 
been  home  in  over  ten  years.  My  mother  died  when  I 
was  knee  high,  and  my  dad  when  I  was  in  college." 

"Haven't  you  any  brothers  and  sisters?" 

"No — and  I've  just  been  wanderin'  'round." 

"Well,  I  can't  say  I've  wandered  much,"  she  told 
him,  with  a  rueful  smile,  "I've  stuck  right  there  in 
Halesburg.  But  the  only  home  I  ever  had  is  gone, 
so  far  as  I'm  concerned — and  so  much  has  gone 
with  it,  too — and  I  don't  suppose  it'll  ever  come 
back.  .  .  .  And  just  what's  to  take  its  place  I  can't 
for  the  life  of  me  see.  Can  you?  I  wonder  what 


MILLIONS  31 

we're  headed  for?  It — rather  brings  you  up  with 
a  jerk  and  sets  you  thinking — a  time  like  this " 

Their  thoughts  returned  to  this  grim  night. 

"Yes,"  he  said.  "It  does  do  that.  ...  I  guess 
I'll  go  in  and  see  him  now — if  you  don't  mind,  Miss 
Cable." 

"Please!" 

And  when  he  was  gone  she  told  herself,  "Now 
I  hope  he  didn't  think  that  I  was  trying  to  keep  him 
here!"  But  when  he  came  out  of  Gordon's  room, 
there  was  no  thought  of  her  in  his  anxious  eyes. 

"Is  there  nobody  else,"  he  asked,  "who  ought  to 
be  told?" 

"No,  our  folks  are  pretty  well  scattered,"  she  re 
plied,  "all  but  Aunt  Abby  and  Uncle  Phil — and  he 
will  be  here  to-morrow,  I  think." 

"That's  good."  He  hesitated.  "Don't  you  want 
me  to  stay  and  jest  sit  here  to-night — so  you  can  get 
some  rest?"  he  inquired. 

"No,  don't  do  that.  You  look  tired,"  she  said, 
"and  there's  nothing  at  all  you  can  do.  I  expect  to 
go  to  bed,  myself.  The  nurse  has  promised  to  call 
me,  of  course,  if  there's  any  need." 

"Is  everything  all  right,"  he  asked,  "about  your 
room  and  so  on?" 

"Oh,  yes,  thank  you " 


32  MILLIONS 

"I  didn't  have  time  to  come  back,  you  see — but 
I  'phoned  old  Abe,  our  nigger,  to  tidy  up — and  I 
hope  he  did." 

He  rang  for  the  old  negro,  then  went  and  looked 
into  his  room,  now  hers.  She  followed  behind 
him. 

"Oh,  I'll  be  quite  comfortable.  What  a  won 
derful  view  you  have,"  she  said.  He  turned  at 
that. 

"Do  you  like  it,  too?" 

"Yes,  it — takes  your  breath  away." 

Without  reply  he  turned  back  to  the  living 
room,  as  the  old  colored  servant  came  in  from  the 
hall. 

"Abe,"  he  said,  "you  look  after  Miss  Cable  while 
she's  here  and  see  she  gets  anything  she  wants.  She's 
boss  here  now,  you  understand." 

"Yes,  suh — yes,  suh — I  understand.  How  you 
think  he  looks,  Marse  Joe?" 

"Oh,  I  reckon  we'll  pull  him  out  of  this,  Abe." 

The  old  negro  helped  him  on  with  his  coat.  He 
wrote  down  for  Madge  the  telephone  number  of  the 
hotel  where  he  had  a  room;  and  then  taking  her 
hand,  he  said, 

"Well — good  luck,  Miss  Cable — good  night." 

"Good  night,  Mr.  Evans." 


MILLIONS  33 


For  some  time  she  sat  without  stirring.  With  a 
grim  smile  she  told  herself,  "That's  the  longest  talk 
I've  had  with  a  man  in  goodness  knows  how  many 
years." 

She  got  up  abruptly  and  went  into  Gordon's  room. 
There  everything  was  as  before;  and  as  she  stood 
looking  in  at  the  gaunt  white  form  on  the  bed,  she 
realized  all  in  a  flash  how  as  her  brother  slipped  out 
of  life  she  herself  was  coming  into  it — a  life  such  as 
she  had  never  known.  And  the  two  changes  were 
bound  close;  the  one  depended  on  the  other.  It 
was  uncanny — frightening!  "I  want  him  to  live!" 
she  cried  to  herself.  Almost  in  a  panic  she  came 
away,  and  in  the  front  room  stood  rigid,  restless. 
Sleep?  She  gave  a  strained  short  laugh.  "Look 
here,  the  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to  keep  just  as  busy 
as  you  can!" 

There  was  still  a  little  unpacking  to  do.  She  went 
into  her  room  and  attended  to  that  and  then  be 
gan  undressing.  Again  she  looked  about  her.  It  was 
a  man's  room,  beyond  a  doubt.  On  the  desk  was 
a  kodak  picture  of  Gordon  and  Joe  Evans  in  uni 
form,  in  some  camp;  and  she  stopped  for  a  time  to 
look  at  it.  Then  once  more  she  found  herself  star- 


34  MILLIONS 

ing  down  through  the  wide  low  window  into  the 
sparkling  city  night.  She  turned  back,  pulled  down 
the  shade,  finished  undressing  and  got  into  bed;  but 
after  half  an  hour  or  so,  her  restlessness  grew  so 
acute  as  to  be  unbearable.  She  rose  and  threw  on 
a  dressing  gown  and  went  again  to  Gordon's  door 
and  listened.  There  was  not  a  sound.  She  turned 
into  the  living  room  and  moved  about  slowly  looking 
at  things — books,  pictures,  music,  knick-nacks,  pipes 
— wondering  which  belonged  to  Gordon,  which  to 
Joe.  Once  again  she  noticed  the  photograph  on  the 
piano. 

Old  Abe  came  in  and  asked  her  when  she  would 
have  breakfast.  She  looked  up  in  a  startled  way. 

"Oh,  about  seven/*  she  replied.  She  colored 
slightly.  "No — eight  o'clock,  please. " 

"Yes'm.    Anything  else  I  can  do,  Miss  Cable?" 

"No,  thank  you." 

"Yes'm.    Good  night,  Miss  Cable." 

"Good  night,  Abe." 

He  left  her.  It  was  nearly  midnight  now,  and 
sitting  alone  in  the  front  room  the  cold  panicky  feel 
ing  came  stealing  back.  "If  he  dies  before  morning 
what  shall  I  do?  I  don't  know  a  single  soul  in  New 
York!"  Then  she  thought  of  Joe  Evans.  "Yes,  I'd 
call  him  up  at  once.  That's  the  first  thing  I  would 


MILLIONS  35 

do."  Gradually  Madge  grew  quiet  again;  she  began 
to  think  intently  of  their  talk  an  hour  before,  and  to 
remember  what  she  had  said.  All  at  once  she  was 
abashed  at  the  eager  friendliness  she  had  shown 
him.  "What  must  he  think  of  me  ?"  she  asked.  She 
shrank  into  herself — her  old  self — or  rather  the  self 
of  these  last  few  years — the  nobody  self.  And  she 
wanted  desperately  to  get  back — right  back  into  her 
corner !  She  wanted  Gordon  to  live,  not  die,  and  go 
on  with  this  strange  life  of  his — " which  is  none  of 
my  business,  after  all!"  And  as  she  sat  wishing, 
wishing,  suddenly  she  felt  quite  sure  that  early  in 
the  morning,  when  she  went  into  Gordon's  room,  she 
would  find  him  with  clear  smiling  eyes,  weak  but 
out  of  danger ;  and  that  she  would  go  back  home,  to 
Amanda  Berry  in  their  flat,  and  in  a  long  evening  talk 
she  would  give  the  whole  story  to  her  friend.  How 
uncanny  and  unreal,  a  thrilling  adventure — interest 
ing  to  talk  about  when  you  had  left  it  all  behind  you. 
Yes,  she  wanted  it  like  that ! 

"And  yet  suppose,  on  the  other  hand,  in  an  hour 
from  now " 

She  clenched  her  small  hands  on  the  sides  of  the 
chair  and  felt  herself  grow  stiff  as  a  board. 

"Uncle  Phil  will  be  here  to-morrow,"  she 
thought,  trying  to  grip  her  thoughts  again.  But  now 


36  MILLIONS 

the  hubbub  from  outside,  from  the  broad  avenue 
below,  had  risen  to  a  bedlam  of  honks  and  raucous 
blaring  horns  which  beat  into  her  very  soul.  Would 
they  never  be  quiet,  get  ready  for  sleep? 

Again  she  seemed  to  shrink  into  herself;  for  once 
more  the  question  rose  before  her,  stark  and  clear: 

"Millions  I    What  would  I  do  with  it?" 


It  must  have  been  nearly  one  o'clock  when  the 
buzz  of  the  doorbell  brought  her  to  her  feet  with  a 
spring.  She  waited,  regained  control  of  herself,  and 
then  with  a  slow  deliberation  went  out  to  the  door 
and  opened  it.  A  girl  in  a  cloak  of  gold  brocade, 
with  a  dark  oval  nervous  face  and  with  big  black 
gorgeous  eyes,  drew  back  in  surprise. 

"Oh — good  evening!" 

"Good  evening.  What  is  it,  please?"  inquired 
Madge.  Without  reply,  the  girl  came  by  into  the 
hall. 

"Are  you  the  nurse?" 

"No,"  said  Madge. 

In  an  instant  she  was  all  alert;  and  her  quick 
observant  eyes  took  in  the  girl  from  head  to  foot. 
A  beauty,  of  the  vivid  sort,  set  off  by  pencil  and 
the  lip  stick.  Nervous,  tired,  all  keyed  up.  Lavish, 


MILLIONS  37 

careless.  Underneath  the  lovely  old  embroidered 
cloak,  Madge  caught  glimpses  of  a  skirt  and  waist 
by  no  means  fresh.  Beautiful  ankles,  dainty  slip 
pers.  Hair  untidy.  UA11  mixed  up.  Neither  one 
thing  nor  the  other."  All  this  Madge  took  in  at  a 
glance. 

"Who  are  you,  then,  if  I  may  ask?"  the  visitor 
said  abruptly. 

"I'm  Mr.  Cable's  sister." 

From  the  impatient  lips  and  eyes,  Madge  caught 
a  glance  which  seemed  to  say,  "Oh,  the  devil  I  What 
a  nuisance!"  The  girl  said  aloud, 

"Oh— I  didn't  know " 

"He  had  any  sister?  He  has,  you  see.  And  they 
telegraphed." 

As  they  entered  the  living  room  Madge's  look 
went  to  the  photograph  on  the  piano. 

"How  is  he  now?"  the  stranger  asked. 

"He  seems  to  be  no  worse,"  said  Madge;  and 
then,  a  little  louder:  "Would  you  mind  telling  me 
your  name?" 

"Good  evening,  Miss  O'Brien."  The  nurse  had 
come  out  of  Gordon's  room,  having  heard  the  door 
bell;  and  at  sight  of  her  the  visitor  promptly  turned 
away  from  Madge,  and  in  her  rich  impatient  voice 
began  asking  questions.  Then  she  said, 


38  MILLION 

"I'll  see  him  now."  And  she  went  back  into  the 
bedroom.  The  nurse  followed  her,  and  for  a  time 
Madge  stood  staring  after  them,  with  an  expression 
of  keen  dislike.  "A  funny  way  to  sweep  into  a  place, 
and  brush  a  man's  sister  aside  like  that,  without  even 
stopping  to  tell  her  name.  ...  I  wonder  if  she's  en 
gaged  to  him — and  who  she  is — and  what  she  is?" 
Madge  sat  down,  with  a  little  frown  of  dislike  and 
curiosity.  "And  it's  long  after  midnight,  too.  If  she 
really  cares  for  him,  why  hasn't  she  been  here  be 
fore?  Where  has  she  been  all  evening?" 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  girl  came  out  and  went 
down  the  hall.  As  she  passed  the  living  room  door 
way,  Madge  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  face,  strained, 
anxious.  Then  she  heard  the  outer  door  open  and 
close  sharply.  The  strange  visitor  was  gone.  And 
sitting  there  Madge  asked  herself, 

"Now  I  wonder  who  in  the  world  she  can  be — 
and  what  she  has  been  to  Gordon?" 


CHAPTER  II 


ON  awakening  the  next  morning,  Madge  went 
into  Gordon's  room.  "Now  he'll  be  better,"  she  told 
herself.  But  she  found  her  brother  the  same  as  be 
fore.  Miss  Cochran,  the  young  day  nurse,  had 
come,  and  she  said  there  had  been  no  sign  of  a 
change.  Madge  went  back  to  her  room  and  dressed, 
and  was  at  breakfast  with  the  nurse  when  her  Uncle 
Phil  arrived. 

He  was  about  sixty — a  tall,  thin  man  in  a  loose  fit 
ting  pepper-and-grey  suit.  He  had  a  large  soft  grey 
moustache ;  he  wore  glasses,  and  his  light  blue  eyes 
were  hard,  but  with  a  twinkle.  Madge  both  liked 
him  and  disliked  him.  Her  father's  only  brother, 
he  had  been  since  her  father's  death  the  head  of  the 
family,  more  or  less;  and  when  Madge's  home  was 
sold,  her  uncle  had  managed  the  whole  affair.  He 
had  been  a  doctor  then;  but  a  few  years  later, 
when  the  local  druggist  died,  Doctor  Cable  had 
taken  the  store  and  in  ten  years  had  built  up  quite  a 
business  there,  with  toilet  articles,  cheap  perfumes, 

39 


40  MILLIONS 

kddak  supplies,  candy,  gum,  cigarettes  and  cigars. 
And  although,  with  a  querulous  wife  at  home  who 
was  forever  dosing  herself,  and  a  thin  gawky  daugh 
ter  of  thirty-one  who  was  complaining  constantly, 
Uncle  Phil  had  a  far  from  easy  time,  somehow  or 
other,  by  his  smile,  his  smooth  deep  voice  and  the 
easy  twinkle  in  his  eyes,  he  always  managed  to  give 
the  appearance  of  a  solid  citizen  who  had  come  a 
long  way  up  in  life  and  could  look  indulgently  at 
things.  Years  ago,  when  a  patient  of  his  had  died 
and  the  relatives  had  gone  about  saying  that  it  was 
all  on  account  of  a  careless  mistake  which  he  had 
made,  he  had  borne  it  off  with  that  same  easy  man 
ner.  Uncle  Phil  was  hard  to  faze.  He  had  always 
been  kind  enough  to  Madge,  and  many  times  he  had 
tried  to  persuade  her  to  ask  her  rich  brother  for  his 
aid — both  for  herself,  her  family  and  her  fellow 
townsmen.  But  when  she  obstinately  refused,  and 
later  began  her  slow  decline,  by  degrees  he  had  come 
to  look  on  her  as  the  rest  of  them  did — as  a  girl 
who  had  lost  her  one  big  chance  and  would  soon  be 
just  a  little  old  maid. 

But  to-day,  though  his  voice  and  his  manner  were 
as  easy  and  smooth  as  before,  she  soon  began  to  no 
tice  that  her  uncle  was  queerly  intense.  He  looked 
at  her — so  differently. 


MILLIONS  4! 

"Well,  Madge,  and  how  is  Gordon?"  he  asked  at 
once,  on  his  arrival.  He  listened  closely  to  what  she 
said.  "Has  the  doctor  been  here  this  morning?"  he 
asked. 

"Not  yet." 

"That's  good — then  I  shall  see  him.  Did  you 
talk  with  him  last  night?" 

"No,  he  was  here  before  I  arrived." 

"I  see.  Now  I'll  go  in,  if  I  may,  and  have  a  look 
at  the  patient  myself." 

Doctor  Cable  went  into  Gordon's  room,  talked  to 
the  nurse  and  looked  at  the  chart;  and  as  he  studied 
it  carefully,  Madge  felt  a  very  real  relief  to  have 
him  here. 

"Well,  my  dear,"  he  said  t )  her,  when  they  came 
into  the  other  room,  "I  guess  to-day  will  settle  this, 
one  way  or  the  other."  Then  noticing  the  strain  in 
her  face  he  patted  her  shoulder.  "Now  suppose  you 
come  in  and  finish  your  breakfast,  and  give  me  a  lit 
tle,  too." 

And  when  they  were  at  the  table,  he  asked,  "Was 
Evans  here  when  you  arrived?" 

"No." 

"That's  rather  curious.  Didn't  he  get  my 
wire?" 

"Yes — but  he  was  at  his  office,"  she  said. 


42  MILLIONS 

Her  uncle's  bushy  eyebrows  lifted  just  a  bit  at  that. 

"On  Sunday,  eh.  Looks  as  if  their  business  must 
be  pretty  absorbing!  these  days.1'  He  drank  his 
coffee  and  then  inquired,  "Didn't  he  even  come  last 
night?" 

"Yes."  And  she  told  of  the  talk  they  had  had. 
She  hesitated.  "And  later,"  she  said,  "long  after 
twelve — a  girl  came  in." 

Her  uncle  threw  her  a  quick  look. 

"Who  was  she?" 

"She  didn't  give  me  her  name — but  the  nurse 
called  her  Miss  O'Brien." 

Their  voices  were  both  suddenly  low. 

"Didn't  you  talk  to  her?" 

"Barely.  She  didn't  give  me  a  chance,"  said 
Madge. 

As  she  went  on  to  describe  the  brief  visit,  her 
uncle  listened  closely  but  made  no  comment  at  the 
end,  except  to  say, 

"Well,  she'll  come  again,  I  presume — and  then 
perhaps  she'll  condescend  to  make  our  acquaintance. 
Now  how  can  I  get  in  touch  with  Evans?" 

"He  said  he  would  be  coming  soon.  He  'phoned 
about  an  hour  ago." 

"Good,"  said  Doctor  Cable.  "And  I  presume 
the  surgeon  will  be  here,  too,  before  very  long." 


MILLIONS  43 

They  had  left  the  tabk  now  and  gone  into  the  liv 
ing  room. 

"Is  there  room  for  me  to  sleep  here?"  he  inquired. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "there's  one  room  left." 

"Your  Aunt  Abby  will  be  needing  that." 

"Oh.    Is  Aunt  Abby  coming,  too?" 

"Yes.  I  tried  to  stop  her — but  she  wouldn't  hear 
to  it.  She'll  arrive  this  afternoon.  Better  let  her 
have  the  extra  room,  and  I  can  bunk  in  there,"  he 
said,  looking  into  the  small  study.  "Yes,  I  can  sleep 
on  the  sofa  there — if  there's  any  sleeping  to  be 
done." 

He  went  and  got  his  big  satchel  and  took  it  into 
the  small  room.  A  little  later  he  called  to  her,  in 
a  quiet  tone, 

"Come  in  here,  Madge." 

And  when  she  went,  she  found  him  with  a  letter 
in  his  hand. 

"Here's  that  letter  Gordon  wrote  you  in  1917," 
he  said.  She  made  a  movement  of  surprise,  but 
remembered  that  her  uncle  had  asked  for  the  letter 
at  the  time.  "I've  kept  it  in  my  safe,"  he  remarked. 
He  opened  it  and  read  it  aloud.  At  the  end  he  in 
quired,  "Did  you  ever  hear  if  he  made  that 
will?" 

"No — I  didn't."     Compressing  her  lips,  she  hesi- 


44  MILLIONS 

tated  and  then  asked,  "Do  we  need  to  talk  of  this 
now?" 

"Yes,  I  think  we  do,  my  dear.  This  is  a  time  for 
some  pretty  clear  thinking.  He  may  live — we'll  hope 
he  does.  But  in  case  he  should  not,  we  can't  be  too 
careful  what  goes  on.  Money  is  money — and  by 
all  accounts  Gordon  has  a  lot  of  it.  Millions, 
maybe." 

Madge  felt  a  little  leap  in  her  breast. 

"I  don't  see  what  we  can  do  about  that,"  she  an 
swered  in  a  tone  of  constraint. 

"Don't  you?"  said  her  uncle.  "Suppose  you  leave 
that  part  to  me?"  As  she  hesitated  still,  he  added, 
"All  I  want  to  do,  of  course,  is  to  make  sure  that 
your  rights  are  protected — that  there  is  nothing  un 
derhand." 

"Very  well,  Uncle — thank  you." 

"Good.  That's  all  I  need  for  the  present,"  he 
said.  "Now,"  he  added  quietly,  "I  guess  I'll  get  on 
a  clean  shirt."  As  she  was  leaving  him,  he  asked, 
"Has  that  nurse  had  her  breakfast?" 

"Yes " 

"And  have  you  ordered  the  meals  for  the  day?" 

"Why,  no." 

The  tolerant  glance  he  gave  her  then  brought 
back  her  former  feeling  of  being  so  inadequate. 


MILLIONS  45 

"Better  get  the  run  of  the  kitchen,"  he  said. 

Madge  went  in  to  talk  with  Abe.  The  old  negro 
!  soon  made  her  aware  that  he  had  his  business  well 
^in  hand  and  wanted  no  interference.  And  again  the 
feeling  came,  "There's  nothing  here  for  me  to  do." 
gBut  as  he  went  on  to  ask  her  how  many  would  be 
Ihere  for  meals,  told  her  how  he  managed  things, 
showed  her  where  the  linen  was  kept,  and  answered 
I  other  questions  she  put  him,  she  felt  in  his  whole 
|  attitude  an  anxious  deference  to  herself — as  though 
he  knew  that  by  to-morrow  she  might  be  the  mistress 
here.  She  impatiently  stopped  this  train  of  thought; 
but  in  spite  of  her  efforts  at  self-control  the  strange 
excitement  came  again — and  grew — till  with  her 
nerves  on  edge  she  sat  as  before  in  the  living  room. 
Her  uncle  came  out  in  his  shirt  sleeves  and  went  into 
the  bathroom.  Presently  he  came  back  again,  went 
into  the  study  and  shut  the  door. 

A  few  minutes  later  a  ring  of  the  doorbell  made 
her  jump.  She  went  to  the  door  and  opened  it,  and 
a  short  stout  man  with  a  large  head  and  a  heavy 
shock  of  hair,  smooth  freckled  face  and  hard  square 
jaw,  came  into  the  hall. 

"Good  morning.  Are  you  Miss  Cable?"  he 
asked. 

"Yes " 


46  MILLIONS 

"My  name  is  Hoyt,"  he  said.  "I'm  the  surgeon 
here.  How's  the  patient  to-day?" 

"About  the  same,  so  far  as  we  know." 

"Well,  we'll  see  about  that  in  a  minute.  I'd  like 
a  few  words  with  you  first." 

They  went  into  the  living  room,  and  Madge  at 
once  began  to  feel  something  steady  and  strong  and 
reassuring  in  his  brusque  voice  and  kindly  eyes. 

"Are  you  his  only  sister?" 

"Yes." 

"No  brothers — parents — living?" 

"No." 

"Then  you  are  the  one  responsible  here." 

Suddenly  she  felt  again  the  load  settling  on  he 
shoulders. 

"Not  entirely,"  she  replied.     "My  uncle  arrive 
this  morning." 

She  turned  as  her  uncle  came  out  of  the  study,  in 
troduced  him  to  Doctor  Hoyt  and  listened  as  the  tw< 
men  talked.     But  their  interview  was  brief.     Hoy 
went  into  Gordon's  room;  her  uncle  followed;  anc 
as  she  heard  their  voices  and  that  of  the  nurse 
Madge  smiled  to  herself.     For  the  New  York  sur 
geon  was  rather  ignoring  Uncle  Phil.    "Uncle  won't! 
like  that,"  she  thought.     And  when  presently  theyy 
came  out  again,  one  look  at  her  relative's  face  wass 


MILLIONS  47 

enough  to  show  her  that  she  had  been  right.  But 
the  surgeon  seemed  to  pay  no  heed. 

"Where  can  I  reach  Mr.  Evans?"  he  asked  her. 
"There  are  some  things  I  want  to  know — about  the 
life  your  brother  has  led,  and  that  wound  he  got  in 
France.  Unless  his  condition  changes  soon,  we 
shall  have  to  operate. 

"Do  you  feel  quite  satisfied  of  that?"  asked  Doc 
tor  Cable  sharply.  He  received  an  impatient  look 
from  the  surgeon. 

"I  said,  sir — if  there  is  no  change.  Good  day, 
Miss  Cable — have  Mr.  Evans  call  me  at  my  office 
at  twelve." 

"Very  well,  Doctor."  Madge's  face  still  wore  a 
faint  smile  of  relish.  How  her  uncle  did  dislike  it! 
The  moment  they  were  alone,  he  said,  in  a  hard  un 
natural  tone, 

"I  can't  say  I'm  much  impressed  by  this  fellow. 
He  seems  to  be  getting  ready  to  decide  this  whole 
case  in  a  rush.  This  sticking  a  knife  into  a  man's 
brains  is  a  devilish  ticklish  business,  at  best.  And 
when  I  see  a  surgeon  going  at  it  hammer  and 
tongs " 

"Why,  Uncle,"  said  Madge,  "he  seemed  to  me  to 
know  just  what  he  was  about." 

"Did  he?     Did  you  like  the  way  he  kept  trying 


48  MILLIONS 


to  shove  us  aside — as  a  couple  of  nobodies  here — 
and  to  put  Evans  in  our  place  ?  Now  you  listen  to 
me.  Don't  you  let  him  do  it,  Madge — nor  the  nurse, 
nor  the  nigger,  nor  Evans  himself.  Understand? 
This  case  is  all  up  to  you!" 

Again  she  felt  that  tingling  sensation  deep  inside 
of  her. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "I  suppose  it  is.  But  I'm  glad 
you're  here,  too,  Uncle  Phil." 

As  she  talked  on,  in  a  steady  voice,  about  her  con 
fidence  in  her  uncle  as  a  doctor  of  good  common 
sense,  and  as  she  saw  how  what  she  said  was  sooth 
ing  his  ruffled  feelings,  once  more  she  felt  her  power 
here  growing  quickly,  hour  by  hour.  And  the  old 
strong  self-confidence  of  a  few  years  ago  came  rap 
idly  back. 

Doctor  Cable  took  out  his  watch. 

"Hello — it's  nearly  ten,"  he  said.  "Before 
Evans  comes,  I  think  I'll  go  in  and  talk  to  the 
nurse.  I  want  to  learn  a  little  more  about  that  girl 
who  was  here  last  night.  Didn't  Evans  speak  of 
her?" 

"No,"  said  Madge,  with  a  slight  start 

"That's  funny,"  said  her  relative. 

And  after  she  was  left  alone,  Madge  told  herself, 

"That's  so.    It  is." 


MILLIONS  49 

2 

She  sat  without  stirring  for4  a  time — thinking 
about  Joe  Evans  and  their  talk  of  the  night  before. 
Why  hadn't  he  told  her  about  that  girl  ?  "Well,  why 
should  he?  After  all,  we  were  nothing  but  strang 
ers — practically."  But  then  with  a  little  glow  she 
remembered  how,  starting  as  utter  strangers,  they 
had  been  drawn  to  one  another — in  less  than  an 
hour — with  Gordon  close  by,  in  the  cool  dim  room. 
Madge  drew  an  impatient  breath.  "What's  the 
matter  with  me?"  she  asked.  "Can't  I  just  be  sensi 
ble?" 

Then  she  heard  a  key  in  the  door.  A  moment 
later  Joe  Evans  came  in;  and  at  once  her  self-con 
sciousness  disappeared  and  she  felt  drawn  to  him 
again.  All  his  thoughts  were  so  plainly  on  Gordon 
now.  Desperately  anxious  but  keeping  himself  well 
in  hand,  from  the  moment  he  entered  he  made  her 
feel  that  his  reliance  on  herself  had  deepened  since 
the  night  before.  And  soon,  in  reply  to  his  questions, 
she  was  again  reassuring  him.  She  told  of  her  uncle's 
coming  and  dwelt  upon  his  long  experience  as  a  phy 
sician,  his  good  common  sense. 

"I  can't  tell  you  how  relieved  I  feel  to  have  him," 
she  ended.  "I've  arranged  that  he  shall  sleep  here 
to-night." 


50  MILLIONS 

"That's  good,"  said  Joe,  "I'm  glad  he  has  come. 
But  if  he's  a  doctor — well,  you  want  to  be  careful, 
you  know.  I  hope  he  won't  try  to  tell  Hoyt  his 
business.  I  reckon  you  know  how  these  doctors  are. 
And  I  hope  you'll  remember  that  you  are  the  one  to 
decide  things  here — you,  and  nobody  else  but  you. 
The  rest  of  us — well,  you  can  count  on  me  to  stick 
right  behind  you."  A  worried  gleam  came  into  his 
eyes.  "If  it  weren't  for  that  snarl  we're  in  down 
town  I'd  be  right  with  you  all  the  time.  But  I  know 
that  I  can  count  on  you,"  he  ended  in  an  earnest 
tone.  "I  knew  it  the  minute  I  saw  you  here." 

"Oh,  I'm  afraid  I'm  not  so  dependable  as  that." 
As  she  spoke  she  could  feel  the  blood  in  her  cheeks. 
In  an  even  voice,  she  said,  "But  I'm  going  to  do  my 
best,  you  know,  and  somehow  I  feel  so  very  sure 
that  we'll  bring  my  brother  back  to  life." 

"Yes,"  he  said.  And  then,  in  a  moment.  "We've 
been  right  happy  here,  Miss  Cable.  I  jest  can't  be 
gin  to  tell  you  what  he  has  meant  to  me,"  Joe  went 
on.  "I  never  knew  a  man  so — "  he  broke  off,  with 
a  little  gesture.  "That  brother  of  yours  is  white 
all  through — and  when  you're  with  him  you  work 
like  the  devil — but  believe  me,  you  sure  do  live. 
We've  had  some  pretty  scrumptious  times — but  some 
of  the  best  and  the  funniest  were  when  we  were 


MILLIONS  51 

working  most  of  the  night."  His  look  went  to  the 
desk  in  the  study,  as  though  his  friend  were  still  sit 
ting  there.  "I  keep  thinking  of  all  he  has  done  for 
me — of  what  I  was  five  years  ago.1' 

After  a  pause,  she  asked  him  gently,  "But  you 
liked  it,  didn't  you — out  there  in  Texas,  on  a  ranch?" 

Slowly  he  seemed  to  bring  back  his  thoughts. 

"Yes — yes,  I  liked  it — and  I  reckon  that's  the 
life  for  me.  But  to  do  what  I  wanted  out  there,  you 
need  a  pile  of  money — nowadays.  When  I  get 
enough  of  it,  I  guess  I'll  go  back." 

"I  should  think  it  must  be  wonderful.  My  father 
used  to  breed  horses,  you  see,  and  I've  always  loved 
them,"  she  went  on.  And  soon  she  had  him  talking 
about  the  life  upon  a  ranch. 

In  the  meantime,  half  unconsciously,  she  was 
thinking  of  how  just  like  herself  he  had  started  in 
a  small  dull  town.  But  how  he  had  moved !  From 
Tennessee  'way  out  to  Texas,  then  over  to  France 
and  back  here  to  New  York — while  she  herself  had 
stuck  in  her  corner.  A  wave  of  warm  deep  restless 
ness  went  through  her,  and  once  more  she  asked, 
"What  is  this  going  to  do  to  me?" 

The  clock  in  the  hall  began  striking  ten.  With  a 
start,  they  both  came  back  to  the  present.  Joe  Ev 
ans  went  into  the  study  and  began  to  open  the  letters 


52  MILLIONS 

and  the  telegrams  on  the  desk.  Watching  his  face 
from  where  she  sat,  she  could  see  how  abruptly  all 
his  thoughts  had  gone  back  to  the  business  of  to-day. 

"But  I  did  see  into  him,"  she  thought.  "Yes,  sir, 
right  down  into  his  life !"  It  was  as  though  a  search 
light  had  been  turned  upon  it  suddenly.  And  vaguely 
now  she  realized  that  the  silent  drama  in  the  cool 
dim  room  close  by  was  acting  with  the  same  effect 
on  herself.  It  was  as  though  she  had  stepped  into 
a  glaring  path  of  light  which  struck  with  a  revealing 
force  deep  into  her  existence,  her  desires  and  her 
dreams.  She  compressed  her  lips  and  frowned,  as 
she  felt  how  she  was  changing.  When  her  uncle 
came  out  of  Gordon's  room,  she  glanced  at  him 
and  thought,  "You're  different,  too !  What  is  it 
that  is  happening  here  to  show  each  one  of  us  up  like 
this?" 

As  her  uncle  started  to  speak  to  her,  he  saw 
Evans  through  the  open  door,  and  in  a  sharp,  low 
voice  he  asked, 

"Who's  that  opening  that  mail?" 

Madge  almost  jumped.  "Oh,  yes,"  she  thought, 
excitedly,  "you  are — you  are — you're  different!" 

She  waited  a  bit,  and  then  said  calmly, 

"That's  Mr.  Evans,  Uncle  Phil." 

At  the  sound  of  their  voices,  Joe  Evans  had  risen. 


MILLIONS  53 

He  came  in,  and  Madge  introduced  them.     Doctor 

Cable's  manner  was  smooth  and  kindly  as  usual  now. 

"I'm  glad  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Evans — this  is  a  try- 

i  ing  time  for  us  all.    Gordon's  a  fine,  promising  lad. 

We've  not  seen  as  much  of  him  as  we'd  like,  in  these 

last  years.     Still,  blood  is  pretty  thick,  you  know — 

especially  when  you  come  from  the  South.    So  I  came 

right  down  to  the  city  to  see  if  I  couldn't  be  of  some 


use." 


"I  sure  am  glad  you  did,  sir." 

"But,"  continued  Doctor  Cable,  "you  seem  to 
have  done  about  everything  that  anyone  could  do, 
my  boy.  I'm  sorry  you've  had  such  a  strain.  My 
niece  tells  me  you've  been  having  worries  in  your 
business,  too." 

"Yes,"  Joe  answered.  "And  I  ought  to  be  in  the 
office  right  now.  The  fact  is,  we  couldn't  have  picked 
a  worse  time  for  Gordon  to  be  put  out  of  the  run 
ning." 

"Nothing  serious,  I  hope."  The  quiet  vigilance 
in  the  eyes  of  Uncle  Phil  had  come  into  his  voice. 
The  younger  man  felt  it;  and  watching  him,  with  a 
thrill  Madge  saw  the  instant  change. 

"Oh,  no,  sir — we've  nothing  at  all  to  complain 
of." 

"I'm  glad  of  that."    Madge  saw  her  relative  hesi- 


54  MILLIONS 

tate.  Then  he  seemed  to  make  up  his  mind.  "Now, 
Mr.  Evans,"  he  began,  "this  is  a  time  for  plain 
speaking,  I  think — and  we  might  as  well  face  the 
facts  like  men.  I  believe,  as  no  doubt  you  do  your 
self,  that  we're  going  to  pull  my  nephew  through. 
But  there's  no  use  denying  the  fact  that  we  may  fail 
and  he  may  die.  If  he  does,  I'm  here  to  protect  my 


niece." 


"In  what  way  do  you  mean?"  Joe's  low  voice 
cut  in  like  a  knife,  but  Doctor  Cable  did  not  flinch. 

"I  have  a  letter  here,"  he  said,  "which  Gordon 
wrote  before  going  to  France.  In  it  he  informed 
my  niece  he  was  making  a  will  in  her  favor.  Have 
you  ever  heard  him  speak  of  it?" 

"No,  sir." 

"If  he  had  made  one,  where  would  it  be?" 

"With  his  other  papers,  I  reckon — in  his  box  at 
the  bank,"  said  Joe. 

"Have  you  a  key?" 

"I  know  where  it  is." 

"And  they  know  you  at  the  bank,  of  course." 

"Yes — there'll  be  no  trouble  there." 

"Then  suppose  we  go  and  have  a  look." 

There  was  an  awkward  silence. 

"Why?" 

"Why,  there  seems  to  be  reason  enough,  I  think. 


MILLIONS  55 

on't  you?  If  there  is  such  a  will,  we  ought  to 
now  it.  And  if  there  should  be  a  later  will,  which 
favors  somebody  else  than  my  niece — that  person 
ought  to  be  notified."  Uncle  Phil  waited  a  mo 
ment.  "I  speak  now  as  a  physician,"  he  said.  Joe 
winced  at  that. 

"All  right,"  he  said,  "I'll  see  to  it." 

As  Doctor  Cable  looked  at  him  then,  Madge  knew 
he  wanted  to  propose  that  he  go,  too,  and  help  in 
the  search;  and  that  Joe  Evans  knew  he  did.  But 
the  face  of  Gordon's  partner  had  become  impas 
sive  as  before;  and  after  another  awkward  pause 
Madge  saw  her  uncle  relinquish  his  plan.  He  said, 

"Then  if  you'll  do  it  pretty  soon " 

"I'll  see  to  it  this  morning  and  let  you  know." 

"Thank  you."  Again  there  was  silence.  Then, 
as  Joe  made  a  move  to  go,  "There's  another  point 
I  want  to  clear  up,"  Uncle  Phil  continued,  smoothly. 
'Are  there  any  intimate  friends  of  his  who  are  likely 
to  be  coming  here?  If  you  could  give  us  some 
idea " 

"He  hasn't  many  intimate  friends.  There  are 
some,  of  course,  who  will  call  up — but  I  doubt  if 
they'll  be  coming  here." 

"You're  mistaken  in  that,"  said  Doctor  Cable. 
"My  niece  informs  me  that  there  was  one  who  came 


56  MILLIONS 

last  night.  She  had  been  here  yesterday  twice  be 
fore." 

"Oh,  yes — that  was  Leonora  O'Brien,"  said  Joe, 
in  a  voice  a  bit  unnatural.  He  turned  to  Madge. 
"I  would  have  told  you  about  her,"  he  said,  "but 
I  didn't  reckon  she  could  get  here  again  last  eve 
ning.  She  was  in  rehearsal  for  her  play — which 
opens  to-night." 

"She's  an  actress,  then,"  said  Uncle  Phil. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"She  and  Gordon  must  be  on  rather  intimate 


terms." 


"They  have  been — yes." 

"How  long  has  he  known  her?" 

"Nearly  a  year." 

"Would  you  call  it — an  engagement?" 

"No — I  don't  think  so.  She's  all  wrapped  up  in 
her  stage  career.  I  doubt  if  she's  the  marrying 
kind." 

"I  see.  Well,  it's  none  of  our  business,  of  course, 
and  I  don't  want  to  pry  into  Gordon's  affairs.  Only, 
so  long  as  he  is  in  this  critical  condition — you  might 
say,  at  the  point  of  death — we  can't  be  too  careful," 
said  Uncle  Phil.  "I  wonder  if  you  couldn't  find 
out  a  little  more  about  their  relations?"  At  a  quick 
look  from  Joe,  he  added,  "We  want  to  be  fair  to 


MILLIONS  57 

her,  you  see.    If  she  has  any  real  right  to  be  here, 
she  must  be — of  course." 

"I  don't  see  how  I  can  find  that  out.     Gordon 

can't  tell  us " 

"No,  poor  lad — and  all  we  can  do  is  to  make  a 
careful  search  among  his  papers,  to  make  quite  sure 
if  there's  anything  at  all  in  this  young  woman's 
favor?" 

Joe  took  no  pains  to  conceal  his  dislike. 
"When  I  go  to  the  bank,  I'll  look  for  that." 
"And  in  the  office.     His  desk,  perhaps." 
"All  right  I    But  we'll  hope  he  won't  die,  sir !" 
"Yes,  my  boy!"     Doctor  Cable  gripped  him  by 
the  hand;  and  as  they  went  to  the  door,  he  said,  "I 
hope  you  won't  take  this  too  hard.    There's  no  im 
mediate  danger,  I  think,  and  we  are  here  to  do  all 
we  can.    We're  grateful  to  you  for  what  you  have 
done.     I  speak  for  Gordon's   family.     Now  you 
won't  forget  to  go  to  the  bank?" 
"No,  sir." 
And  Joe  left  them. 


Uncle  Phil  turned  back  to  Madge  and  said, 
"Well,  he  seems  like  a  good  honest  lad — capable, 
too,  if  I'm  not  mistaken.    Now  Madge,  I'm  going 


58  MILLIONS 

to  stay  with  Gordon.  I  want  to  study  his  record 
again  and  watch  him.  There  are  certain  signs  which 
mean  a  good  deal,  one  way  or  the  other.  I'm  think 
ing  of  Hoyt  and  that  operation.  So,  if  you  don't 
mind,  my  dear,  I'll  leave  you  here  to  answer  the 
'phone.  Gordon's  friends  will  be  calling  up,  no 
doubt " 

"Yes,  Uncle,  I'll  attend  to  it." 

Again  she  felt  the  deference  in  his  manner  to 
ward  herself;  and  she  felt  it  still  again  in  the  voices 
of  those  men  who  called  up  in  the  next  hour.  As 
she  said  to  each  of  them,  "I'm  Mr.  Cable's  sister," 
she  heard  the  change  in  their  voices,  the  sympathy 
and  consideration;  and  once  more  she  had  a  sense 
of  how  her  position  was  changing. 

Once  or  twice  a  woman  called  up,  but  she  did  not 
hear  the  voice  of  the  girl  who  had  been  here  the 
night  before.  "She  won't  telephone,  she'll  come," 
thought  Madge.  More  and  more  her  thoughts 
turned  to  this  second  meeting.  "So  she's  an 
actress."  There  was  a  little  excitement  in  that. 
"Well,  I'm  sorry  for  her,  of  course — if  she  really 
cares  for  him.  But  I'm  not  to  be  just  shoved 
aside." 

And  so,  when  the  young  actress  came  about  noon 
to  the  apartment,  and  after  a  few  brusque  questions 


MILLIONS  59 

started  to  go  to  Gordon's  room,  Madge  said  to  her, 
in  an  even  tone, 

"I  don't  think  you'd  better  go  in  just  yet." 

The  girl  stopped  suddenly. 

"No?    Why  not?" 

"My  uncle  is  with  him."  And  then  to  old  Abe, 
who  was  in  the  hall,  Madge  said,  "Will  you  go  to 
Doctor  Cable,  Abe,  and  find  out  if  it's  all  right  for 
Miss  O'Brien  to  come  in?" 

She  turned  back  to  the  visitor. 

"Won't  you  sit  down?" 

"Thank  you." 

With  a  look  of  surprise,  curiosity  and  dislike, 
Leonora  seated  herself;  and  Madge's  quick  obser 
vant  eyes  swept  over  the  dark  blue  velvet  suit  and 
the  chic  little  hat.  It  was  simple  enough.  "But  it 
cost  a  lot,"  she  told  herself.  "Yes,  she  goes  to  ex 
pensive  places,  but  she  doesn't  take  pains  enough  in 
the  little  .things.  The  gloves  aren't  clean.  And  the 
whole  effect — she  misses  it.  Or  perhaps  she  doesn't 
care — until  she  makes  up  for  the  stage.  Still,  she 
is  a  beauty.  What  perfectly  gorgeous  big  black 
eyes." 

"I  wonder  if  you  have  any  idea,"  her  visitor  asked 
abruptly,  "of  the  strain  I'm  going  through?" 

"On  account  of  my  brother,  you  mean?" 


60  MILLIONS 

"That's  part  of  it.  That's  most  of  it.  If  he 
dies,  I  don't  know  what  I'll  do!"  And  her  lips 
quivered  suddenly.  "Are  you  acting?"  Madge  was 
thinking.  "No,  I  don't  believe  you  are." 

"But  that's  not  all,"  the  girl  went  on.  "I'm  an 
actress,  you  know — and  my  play  is  opening  to-night. 
They're  starring  me — for  the  first  time.  And  I've 
got  all  that  to  go  through  with !" 

"Can't  you  get  someone  to  take  your  place?" 

She  caught  a  glance  of  amusement  which  said, 
"Oh,  you  ridiculous  little  old  maid!"  And  she  red 
dened  angrily. 

"Hardly,"  Leonora  replied.  "It's  the  chance  I've 
worked  for  all  my  life.  Gordon  wouldn't  want  me 
to  miss  it,  I  know !" 

"I  see,"  said  Madge. 

Leonora  drew  a  breath  of  impatience  and  tapped 
her  small  foot  on  the  floor.  For  some  moments 
nothing  was  said.  But  Madge,  alert  and  strained 
herself  and  sensitive  to  impressions,  had  a  quicken 
ing  sense  of  the  warm  vivid  youth  and  sex  in  this 
girl,  the  glamour  of  this  life  she  led.  Fame,  adven 
tures,  love  affairs,  rouge  and  powder  and  bouquets, 
late  suppers — all  she  had  read  or  heard  of  actresses 
came  into  her  mind  with  a  rush,  in  a  jumble.  She 
wondered  how  much  of  it  was  true.  And  with  Gor- 


MILLIONS  6l 

don — how  far  had  it  gone?  What  were  the  girl's 
intentions  here — if  he  lived — if  he  died? 

When  Doctor  Cable  came  into  the  room,  Leonora 
rose  at  once;  and  as  in  his  smooth  easy  way  he  be 
gan  to  question  her,  Madge  saw  the  girl  clench  both 
her  hands.  "How  terribly  keyed  up  she  is.  Well, 
for  that  matter  so  am  I.  She'll  have  to  learn  to 
control  herself.'1  Uncle  Phil  was  saying  now  that 
Gordon's  condition  was  no  worse,  and  that  there 
was  no  immediate  danger.  But  Leonora  soon  cut  in : 

"I'll  go  in  and  see  him,  if  you  don't  mind." 

"Just  a  moment,"  he  replied.  "The  nurse  will  let 
us  know  when  she's  ready  for  a  visitor."  He  ig 
nored  her  breath  of  exasperation  and  continued 
evenly,  "You  are  on  the  stage,  I  understand." 

"Yes." 

"Mr.  Evans  tells  me  that  you  have  known  Gor 
don  for  some  time." 

"I  have." 

"And  have  you — seen  much  of  each  other?" 

"Yes — we  have."  To  the  hostility  in  her  eyes  he 
gave  a  slight  indulgent  smile,  and  then  with  a  sym 
pathetic  air,  "Now,  my  dear  young  lady,"  he  said, 
"it's  useless  to  conceal  from  ourselves  that  my 
nephew  is  in  a  critical  state.  You  must  forgive  my 
questions.  I  feel  that  we,  his  family,  should  know 


62  MILLIONS 

how  matters  stand  between  you.  Because  if  you  arc 
engaged  to  Gordon " 

"I'm  not  engaged  to  him!"  burst  from  her  lips. 
"I — really — whether  I  am  or  not  seems  to  me  to  be 
a  matter  between  Gordon  and  myself!"  She  rose 

from  her  seat.  "And  if  you  don't  mind "  She 

caught  sight  of  the  nurse  in  the  doorway.  "Oh — 
may  I  come  in  now?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  indeed,  Miss  O'Brien."  The  pretty  young 
nurse  made  no  attempt  to  conceal  her  admiration  for 
this  rising  Broadway  star. 

"Then  please  leave  me  alone  with  him!" 

"Yes,  Miss  O'Brien." 

The  two  disappeared  into  the  hall;  and  glancing 
at  her  Uncle  Phil,  Madge  saw  a  relieved  expression 
there.  After  a  brief  silence,  he  said, 

"I'm  glad  the  young  lady  makes  no  claim  of  any 
promise  to  marry  her.  She's  not  just  the  kind  of 
girl  we're  used  to  in  our  family." 

As  he  spoke,  in  his  hard  blue  eyes  Madge  caught 
a  quiet  twinkle;  and  with  dislike  she  told  herself, 
"I'll  bet  all  men  are  like  that  with  her — old  and 
young,  rich  and  poor !  She — appeals  to  them !  She 
— that's  her  kind!"  Aloud  she  said, 

"No,  I  certainly  shouldn't  care  to  have  her  for  a 
sister-in-law." 


MILLIONS  6j 

Her  uncle  smiled. 

"Well,  my  dear,  I  guess  there's  no  serious  danger 
of  that." 

Leonora  soon  came  back  to  them,  and  asked,  in  a 
curt  anxious  tone, 

"You  say  Mr.  Evans  has  been  here?" 

"Yes,"  said  Doctor  Cable. 

"I  must  see  him — right  away!  I  don't  agree  with 
you  about  Gordon — I  consider  his  condition  serious, 
to  say  the  least!" 

"My  dear  young  lady " 

She  cut  him  off :  "And  I  want  to  be  sure — abso 
lutely — that  we're  doing  the  best  thing!  Money — 
nothing — should  be  spared !" 

"It  won't  be,  Miss  O'Brien,"  said  Madge,  in  a  low 
indignant  voice.  But  the  girl  had  already  turned 
to  the  door. 

"I'll  telephone  Joe  at  the  office,"  she  said. 

"So  you  call  him  Joe,  do  you?"  thought  Madge 
to  herself.  Aloud  she  said,  "I'm  sorry  you  don't 
feel  that  you  can  give  up  your  play  this  evening. 
I  hope  it's  a  very  great  success." 

"Oh,  thank  you!" 

Exit  Leonora. 

Madge  turned  back  and  caught  again  the  twinkle 
in  her  uncle's  eyes.  He  sat  down  and  lit  a  cigar,  and 


64  MILLIONS 

picked  up  the  morning  paper.  She  went  to  the  win 
dow  and  stood  looking  out — stood  without  stirring 
for  some  time.  Beneath  her  air  of  composure,  she 
was  a  creature  of  changing  moods,  and  her  feelings 
were  changing  rapidly  now.  Her  indignation  cooled 
a  bit,  and  she  was  sorry  for  Leonora.  "In  her  way 
she  does  really  care  for  him,"  she  thought.  "Yes — 
she  does.  And  her  play — why  not  ?  It's  her  first  big 
chance — means  everything  to  a  girl  like  that.  I 
guess  I'd  feel  keyed  up  myself."  But  then  back 
came  the  hostility.  "Still,  she  hadn't  any  right  to 
act  as  though  we  didn't  exist!  Now  she'll  go  to 
Joe  Evans,  I  suppose,  and  I'll  bet  she  makes  a 
regular  scene  about  the  way  we're  neglecting 
Gordon!"  With  a  sudden  twinge  she  asked,  "I 
wonder  how  she  and  Joe  Evans  get  on?  Sup 
pose  Gordon  dies — will  he  be  her  next,  or  will  it 
be  somebody  else?  There  must  be  perfect 
dozens!" 

Doctor  Cable  looked  up  from  his  paper,  and 
watching  his  niece  with  a  smile,  he  said, 

"You  don't  exactly  take  to  her." 

"No,  I  can't  say  that  I  do." 

"Still,"  he  replied,  with  a  meditative  puff  of 
smoke  from  his  cigar,  "I  don't  see  that  there's  any 
harm  in  her  seeing  Gordon,  if  she  wants  to.  He's 


MILLIONS  65 

unconscious  as  a  log,  poor  lad — she  can't  play  any 
scene  with  him  just  now." 

"I  don't  like  her  acting  as  though  she  owned  this 
whole  apartment!" 

"Well,  my  dear,  perhaps  she  does." 

"What  on  earth "  she  stopped.     Her  uncle 

looked  back  at  her  and  said, 

"That's  why  I  asked  Evans  to  find  out  if  Gordon 
has  made  any  other  will." 

"Oh-h." 

"And  now  she's  going  to  Evans,  too — possibly 
with  the  same  thing  in  view.  Or  if  not  that,  exactly 
— well,  she's  going  where  the  money  is.  The  king  is 
dead — long  live  the  king.  One  man  with  a  bank  ac 
count  may  be  about  as  good  as  another." 

"No,  Uncle  Phil!     She  isn't  that  kind!" 

"My  dear  girl,"  he  retorted,  "these  actresses  are 
all  alike." 

"She  isn't!    She  does  care  for  him!" 

"Of  course  she  does — in  her  way,"  he  said.  "But 
I'm  just  as  glad  she  admitted  that  she  was  not  en 
gaged  to  him — because  if  there's  no  will  at  all,  as  I 
think  more  than  likely,  she  might  have  put  in  some 
kind  of  a  claim." 

His  niece  looked  at  him  excitedly. 

"I  tell  you,  Uncle,  I  don't  believe  she  cares  a  rap 


66  MILLIONS 

about  money — one  way  or  the  other!"  With  a 
short  laugh,  Madge  added,  "No  doubt  it's  easy 
enough  to  get — for  a  girl  with  eyes  like  that." 

"Millions?" 

He  said  it  quietly,  but  from  her  uncle's  hard 
blue  eyes  came  a  look  which  made  her  pulse  beat  fas 
ter.  He  drew  again  on  his  cigar. 

"At  home,"  he  said,  "I  could  find  out  all  about 
that  girl  in  no  time.  Well,  this  is  New  York.  We'll 
have  to  wait.  But  I  don't  feel  very  anxious,  my 
dear,  for  I  have  a  feeling  in  my  bones  that  Evans 
won't  find  any  other  will,  and  that  Gordon,  in  spite 
of  his  long  neglect,  has  been  loyal  to  his  sister." 

The  next  instant,  without  warning,  the  tears  welled 
up  in  Madge's  eyes.  She  turned  away  and  went  to 
the  window.  "Poor  Gordon !"  she  exclaimed  to  her 
self.  "Why  are  we  talking  and  thinking  like  this? 
It's  cold,  it's  inhuman!  Oh,"  thought  Madge,  "I 
wish  he  were  well,  and  that  I  were  home!  He 
doesn't  care  about  my  being  here !" 

A  ring  at  the  door  made  her  turn  with  a  start. 

"Now  who  can  that  be?" 

"Steady,  Madge."  Doctor  Cable  got  up.  "Just 
save  yourself  as  much  as  you  can." 

He  went  to  the  door,  and  a  moment  later  came 
back  with  a  telegram  in  his  hand. 


MILLIONS  67 

"It's  from  your  Cousin  Ray,"  he  said.  "Your 
Aunt  Abby  will  be  here  at  one  forty-five."  He 
looked  at  his  watch  and  added,  "It's  after  one  al 
ready.  I'll  go  and  meet  her  at  the  train." 

Madge  felt  a  little  rush  of  relief. 

"I'm  glad  Aunt  Abby  is  coming,"  she  said. 

"Yes — this  is  a  family  time,"  he  answered,  with 
his  kindly  smile.  He  went  and  put  on  his  hat  and 
coat.  "You'll  keep  some  lunch  for  us,  I  sup 
pose " 

"Yes,"  said  Madge,  "I'll  see  to  it." 


CHAPTER  III 


As  she  sat  waiting  for  them,  half  unconsciously 
Madge  began  to  think  of  what  this  might  mean  to 
her  aunt. 

Aunt  Abby  Dwight  was  closer  to  Gordon  than 
Uncle  Phil.  She  had  been  so  good  to  him  when  he 
was  small;  he  had  often  stayed  with  her  for  weeks 
at  a  time.  Yet  in  all  these  years  he  had  done  so  lit 
tle  in  return.  A  Christmas  present  now  and  then — 
when  he  happened  to  remember  it.  But  nothing 
more.  And  oh,  what  a  difference  a  little  money 
would  have  made !  The  widow  of  a  minister,  left  in 
her  early  thirties  with  no  money  but  a  small  insur 
ance  and  five  children  to  bring  up,  she  had  lived  in  a 
shabby  house  half  way  up  the  hill  from  the  town, 
with  a  bit  of  garden  and  farming  land,  and  had  had 
a  pretty  desperate  time — trying  one  thing  after  an 
other,  failing  in  nearly  every  one.  Aunt  Abby  did 
lovely  sewing,  but  she  was  poor  at  collecting  bills. 
And  so  it  was  in  other  things.  She  simply  had  no 
business  head.  And  her  patient  smiling  faith  in  an 

68 


MILLIONS  69 

All-Wise-Providence  had  often  made  Madge  ready 
to  scream.  More  than  once  she  had  had  to  step  in 
and  help,  and  her  Uncle  Phil  had  done  the  same — un 
til  at  last  Aunt  Abby's  life  had  grown  a  little  easier. 

First  Ray,  who  was  her  oldest  son,  went  to  work 
in  the  new  town  garage;  then  Paul  began  to  take 
hold  of  the  farm.  And  their  mother  never  tired 
of  singing  the  praises  of  her  sons.  Paul  was  twenty- 
three  by  now  and  was  doing  fairly  well  with  poul 
try  and  some  hives  of  bees.  But  meanwhile  Ray, 
who  was  twenty-six,  had  married  and  had  two  ba 
bies  ;  and  Ann  his  wife  was  a  giddy  young  thing,  so 
greedy  for  clothes  and  parties  that  Ray  was  always 
in  debt,  these  days — let  alone  helping  his  mother. 
The  three  girls,  Salome,  Ruth  and  Janet,  were 
twenty-two,  twenty  and  sixteen.  They  helped  their 
mother  about  the  house;  Ruth  worked  for  Uncle 
Phil  in  the  drug-store,  earning  eleven  dollars  a  week; 
and  Salome  was  making  rugs.  So  between  them  they 
managed  to  get  on ;  and  they  had  a  good  deal  of  fun 
out  of  it,  too.  But  they  couldn't  afford  to  get  nice 
things;  and  though  they  did  go  to  parties,  there  was 
not  a  man  in  sight,  nor  was  there  very  likely  to  be. 
And  their  mother  worried  about  that. 

Yes,  it  had  been  a  hard  worrying  life.  What  a 
tremendous  difference  a  little  money  would  make  to 


70  MILLIONS 

her  now!  And  millions!  Madge  felt  how  the 
thought  of  that  must  have  been  with  Aunt  Abby 
on  the  train,  as  she  sat  staring  out  at  the  Hudson — 
and  at  home  last  night  with  her  children,  excitedly 
discussing  the  news.  At  first  really  shocked,  no 
doubt,  for  she'd  been  like  a  mother  to  Gordon  once 
— but  then  vaguely  warmed  and  thrilled.  And  her 
children,  too.  Ray  would  have  motored  out  with 
Ann ;  and  as  they  talked  of  Gordon,  into  the  minds 
of  every  one  would  have  leaped  the  thought  of  his 
millions,  and  with  it  the  question,  "Why  shouldn't 
Mother  get  some  of  this?" 

"And  she  shall,"  decided  Madge.  "Just  think 
how  much  she  did  for  him — and  how  she  has  worn 
herself  to  the  bone.  Ten  years  ago  she  was  really 
pretty.  Now  look  at  her — old  at  forty-nine.  Poor 
thing — how  excited  she  must  be." 

2 

And  when  Aunt  Abby  reached  the  apartment, 
Madge  could  see  it  in  her  face.  Often  she  had  no 
ticed  the  contrast  between  the  sweetness  in  the  pa 
tient  mouth  of  her  aunt  and  a  little  caustic  quality  in 
the  small  worried  looking  eyes.  But  now  they  were 
excited,  bright;  she  looked  disturbed  and  anxious, 
all  keyed  up  to  meet  this  situation — perhaps  the 


MILLIONS  71 

greatest  in  her  life.  A  meager  figure  of  medium 
height,  Aunt  Abby  had  lovely  soft  gray  hair,  worn 
low  to  conceal  as  best  she  could  a  birth  mark,  which 
when  she  was  tired  showed  an  ugly  patch  of  red. 
It  showed  quite  distinctly  now,  but  she  had  herself 
fairly  well  in  control.  She  took  Madge  in  her 
arms  and  said, 

"You  poor  child.  What  a  strain  it  must  have  been 
for  you — here  all  alone  last  evening." 

"I'm  glad  youVe  come,  Aunt  Abby,"  said  Madge, 
with  a  slight  tremor.  For  her  aunt  brought  an  old 
fashioned  and  familiar  motherliness  which  was  a 
relief.  The  past  came  with  her  into  the  room.  She 
wanted  to  nurse  Gordon  herself,  just  as  she  had  when 
he  was  a  boy.  She  told  how  on  one  of  his  visits  he 
had  been  ill  from  poison  ivy;  another  time  he  had 
broken  his  arm.  She  had  nursed  him  then — so  why 
not  now? 

"I  don't  care  much  for  these  modern  trained 
nurses,"  she  said,  "who  come  right  into  a  person's 
home  and  shut  the  family  out  of  the  room.  You 
and  I  can  take  care  of  Gordon,  Madge — it's  the  least 
that  we  can  do  for  him.  And  with  your  Uncle  Phil 
here,  too — and  one  of  us  in  the  room  day  and  night 
— yes,  I  think  that  would  be  best." 

Madge  smiled  at  her  aunt  sympathetically — feel- 


72  MILLIONS 

ing  her  effort  to  be  adequate,  to  be  steady  and  self- 
controlled,  to  keep  down  those  disturbing  dreams 
and  do  the  very  best  for  Gordon. 

"I'd  like  to,  Auntie,'1  she  replied,  "but  I  don't 
think  we'd  better.  You  see — "  And  she  went  on 
to  explain  what  the  surgeon  had  told  her  of  the 
close  watch  that  must  be  kept  of  the  pulse,  the  res 
piration  and  various  other  significant  signs.  As  she 
made  her  decision  and  explained,  again  Madge  felt 
her  power  here ;  and  her  sense  of  this  was  increased 
by  the  way  Mrs.  Dwight  deferred  to  her. 

"Very  well,  my  dear  child,  you  know  the  situa 
tion  far  better  than  I  do,"  she  said. 

Aunt  Abby  knew  of  that  letter,  of  course,  from 
Gordon  to  Madge  when  he  went  to  France.  And  it 
did  make  a  difference.  "Toadying?  No,  she  isn't 
that  kind.  But  I'm  just  different  in  her  eyes." 

"Haven't  any  of  Gordon's  friends  been  here  to 
help  you?"  asked  Mrs.  Dwight;  and  by  her  ques 
tions  she  soon  learned  about  Evans  and  Leonora 
O'Brien.  As  to  the  latter,  she  tried  at  once  to  take  a 
decided  stand. 

"If  she's  that  sort  of  woman,  I  think,  my  dear, 
that  we  had  better  keep  her  out.  This  is  no  time 
for  actresses."  And  then,  in  a  sharp  vigilant  tone, 
"Does  she  claim  to  be  engaged  to  him?" 


MILLIONS  73 

"No,"  said  Madge's  uncle.  "When  I  asked  her 
that,  she  even  went  so  far  as  to  deny  it.  And  I 
don't  see  as  she  can  do  any  harm.  No  claim  on 
him,  so  far  as  we  know — and  so  long  as  he's  uncon 
scious,  there's  nothing  at  all  that  she  can  do." 

"You  never  can  tell,"  said  Mrs.  Dwight,  with  the 
look  of  concern  still  in  her  eyes.  But  in  the  talk 
which  followed,  she  soon  dismissed  the  girl  from 
her  thoughts,  as  being  simply  one  more  proof  of  how 
Gordon  had  lavished  his  wealth  upon  sinful  dissipa 
tions,  neglecting  his  own  flesh  and  blood.  And  Aunt 
Abby  did  not  want  to  think  of  poor  dear  Gordon's 
sins  just  now,  she  wanted  just  to  pity  him.  To  save 
his  life?  Yes,  again  and  again  she  came  back  to  the 
question,  "Is  there  nothing  else  we  can  do?"  But 
there  was  nothing.  Already  she  was  sure  in  her 
mind  that  he  would  die,  and  that  all  she  could  do 
was  to  be  here  to  comfort  him  if  he  roused  at  the 
end — and  to  save  his  soul.  Once  she  asked  Madge 
if  she  knew  where  was  the  nearest  Baptist  church. 

Madge  doubted  if  Gordon  went  to  church  or 
would  even  want  a  clergyman;  and  she  hinted  as 
much ;  but  she  could  feel  her  aunt  gently  putting  the 
grown  man  aside.  He  was  dying.  It  was  kinder  to 
ignore  his  irreligious  life  and  long  neglect  of  his 
family,  and  to  resurrect  instead  the  image  of  the  im- 


74  MILLIONS 

pulsive  lovable  little  boy  whom  they  had  known  so 
long  ago.  In  the  rambling  talk  that  afternoon  she 
drifted  back  to  those  old  days,  talking  of  Madge  and 
Gordon,  and  then  of  her  own  children.  Her  talk 
ran  on  and  on  through  the  years,  and  always  deep 
beneath  it  Madge  could  feel  the  awakening  hopes. 
In  spite  of  herself,  Aunt  Abby's  mind  kept  turning 
to  the  happiness  which  might  come  now  to  Ray  and 
Paul  and  to  the  girls,  who  might  have  trips  and 
pretty  clothes  and  get  some  pleasure  out  of  life. 
Husbands  might  be  found  for  them.  There  was 
something  pathetic  about  it  to  Madge;  for  Aunt 
Abby  was  so  naive  in  the  way  she  let  these  vaguely 
stirring  dreams  be  seen  in  the  hints  she  gave  her 
niece,  while  she  thought  they  were  all  hidden  deep — 
admitted  barely  to  herself.  Once  more  the  silent 
drama  in  the  cool  dim  room  close  by  was  throwing 
a  hard  revealing  glare  of  light — into  Aunt  Abby's 
motherhood. 

ult's  all  for  them,"  Madge  told  herself.  "She 
hasn't  a  thought  for  herself,  poor  dear.  All  she'd 
ask  of  money  would  be  a  chance  to  rest  from  the 
grind." 

Her  aunt  began  to  show  the  strain;  and  detecting 
the  signs  of  weariness,  Madge  got  up  to  go  to  the 
kitchen  and  make  some  tea.  On  the  way  she  stopped. 


MILLIONS  75 

Should  she  ring  for  Abe?  "Oh,  don't  be  so  fool 
ish!"  she  told  herself.  She  went  into  the  kitchen 
and  said, 

"Abe,  will  you  make  some  tea  and  toast?" 

"Yes'm,  Miss  Cable." 

When  he  brought  it,  to  her  surprise,  Madge  found 
that  she  was  hungry.  The  thin  crisp  little  slices  of 
toast,  and  the  jam  and  the  cakes,  were  all  so  de 
licious.  As,  with  an  unconscious  look  of  solid  com 
fort,  Mrs.  Dwight  sat  at  her  tea,  Madge  saw  her 
eyes  go  about  the  room.  All  this  was  what  money 
could  bring  in  life.  A  glance  she  threw  at  her  niece 
seemed  to  say,  "And  all  this  is  coming  to  you — and 
I'm  so  glad  it  is,  my  dear — and  I  know  you'll  be  fair 
and  generous."  Back  again  went  her  thoughts  to 
her  children.  Aloud  she  said, 

"Madge,  if  you  don't  mind,  I  think  I'll  telegraph 
for  Ray.  I'd  like  him  to  be  here  with  me." 

"Very  well,  Auntie — of  course,"  said  Madge,  "if 
it  will  be  any  comfort."  And  turning  to  Doctor 
Cable  she  asked,  "Uncle  Phil,  will  you  attend  to 
it?" 

"Yes,  my  dear." 

Madge  leaned  restfully  back  in  her  chair.  How 
everyone  she  spoke  to  responded  to  her  slightest 
wish! 


76  MILLIONS 

"Now,  Aunt  Abby,"  she  said,  presently,  "I  want 
you  to  have  a  nice  warm  bath  and  take  a  little  rest. 
You  need  it." 

Mrs.  Dwight  demurred  a  bit,  but  Madge  insisted 
and  had  her  way. 

"I  don't  think  I  shall  sleep,  my  dear — but  it  is  cer 
tainly  good  to  rest,"  said  Aunt  Abby.  She  lay  back 
on  the  pillows,  the  hard  lines  on  her  face  all  smoothed 
away;  and  in  her  eyes  was  an  expression  of  real  con 
tent,  as  they  went  to  the  chintz  curtains,  the  small 
mahogany  bureau,  the  big  chintz  covered  willow 
chair. 

"I  wonder  who  furnished  this  room?"  thought 
Madge.  "I  wonder  if  Leonora  O'Brien  had  any 
thing  to  do  with  it?" 

Then  she  heard  the  telephone,  and  for  the  next 
hour  or  so  she  was  kept  busy  speaking  with  men 
who  had  just  come  home  from  their  offices  and  were 
calling  up  to  ask  about  Gordon.  There  must  have 
been  eight  or  ten  of  them,  and  all  were  sympathetic 
and  kind.  Joe  Evans  called  up,  and  the  sound  of 
his  voice  gave  her  a  little  thrill  of  excitement.  But 
her  tone  was  steady  enough  as  she  replied  to  his 
questions. 

"Isn't  there  anything  at  all  that  I  can  do  for 
you?"  he  asked. 


MILLIONS  77 

"No,  thank  you,"  she  said  quietly.  "Will  you  be 
coming  in  later  to-night?" 

"Yes,  I'm  still  down  at  the  office — but  I'll  be  up 
about  ten  o'clock — if  that  isn't  too  late,  Miss  Cable." 

"No— it  isn't.     Good-by,  Mr.  Evans." 

An  hour  later  some  roses  arrived,  and  she  found 
his  card  inside  the  box.  As  she  looked  at  them,  a 
flush  of  color  came  into  her  face.  It  was  years  and 
years  since  anyone  had  sent  her  flowers. 

"How  very  nice  and  kind  of  him!" 

3 

For  Madge  the  evening  which  followed  was  quite 
different  from  the  night  before.  Feeling  herself 
once  again  in  the  bosom  of  her  family,  with  the 
responsibility  shared  and  with  nothing  to  decide  for 
the  moment,  her  thoughts  were  colored  more  and 
more  by  the  belief  of  her  relatives — that  in  spite  of 
all  they  could  do,  Gordon  would  die  and  within  a 
few  hours  she  would  be  rich  beyond  all  dreams. 
With  her  uncle  and  aunt  sympathetic  and  kind,  she 
felt  drawn  to  them  both  this  evening.  She  did  not 
let  herself  even  think  of  the  motive  which  had 
brought  them  here  and  had  caused  this  attitude 
toward  herself,  for  she  did  not  want  to  have  any 
hard  thoughts  about  anyone  at  all  to-night.  Why 
shouldn't  they  share  in  Gordon's  wealth?  Why 


78  MILLIONS 

should  she  keep  it  all  to  herself?  Were  they  not 
her  own  flesh  and  blood? 

At  dinner  and  later  that  evening,  the  talk  went 
back  again  into  the  past.  From  a  hint  dropped  by 
Mrs.  Dwight,  Madge  knew  she  was  planning  that 
Gordon's  body  be  taken  back  home.  The  man  who 
had  neglected  them  all  was  to  be  buried  and  forgot 
ten,  or  rather  replaced  by  the  warm  hearted  little 
boy  of  long  ago.  Even  now,  as  their  memories 
rose,  the  picture  of  him  grew  more  and  more  clear, 
brought  back  to  life  to  take  the  place  of  the  man 
who  lay  in  the  room  close  by.  It  was  a  strange 
thing  that  was  happening.  While  Gordon  lay  un 
conscious  there,  his  family  had  come  pouring  in;  not 
only  these  three  relatives,  but  with  them,  through 
their  memories,  many  other  figures  rose,  silent  and 
invisible,  his  father  and  his  mother,  his  small 
cousins  and  his  friends,  all  emerging  out  of  the 
years,  all  of  them  helping  to  bring  back  the  image 
of  the  little  boy. 

And  Madge  came  under  the  spell  of  it,  too.  As 
her  Aunt  Abby  rambled  on  about  Gordon  as  a  child 
on  her  farm,  the  scrapes  he  had  got  into,  his  many 
troubles  and  his  joys,  his  solemn  dreams  and  great 
ambitions  (all  colored  by  Aunt  Abby  now),  and  the 
confessions  he  had  made  while  saying  his  prayers 


MILLIONS  79 

with  his  head  on  her  knees — the  image  grew  steadily 
more  clear.  Once  or  twice  Madge  asked  herself, 
"Was  he  ever  really  just  like  that?"  But  then  again 
the  spell  took  hold;  for  all  this  time  there  were  other 
memories  rising  up  out  of  herself,  and  Uncle  Phil 
kept  joining  in  with  recollections  of  his  own — of 
Gordon,  the  thin,  eager  lad  of  sixteen  who  had 
driven  his  doctor's  buggy.  Together  they  had 
answered  calls  all  along  the  riverside  and  back  up 
into  the  hills.  And  they  had  had  long  talks,  he 
said,  of  what  the  boy  was  to  make  of  his  life.  With 
a  smile  Uncle  Phil  remembered  he  had  paid  him  only 
eight  dollars  a  week — fair  enough  wages  for  those 
days,  but  small  when  compared  to  the  immense 
ambitions  of  the  youngster,  who  had  urged  on  the 
doctor's  mare  as  though  to  speed  up  his  own  career. 
As  Uncle  Phil  went  on  to  enlarge  upon  the  strik 
ing  character  traits  of  the  future  millionaire,  vaguely 
Madge  felt  how  they  were  lifting  Gordon  up  onto 
a  pedestal,  there  to  remain  as  a  mythical  figure  in 
the  family  memories — the  first  rich  man,  the  rugged 
beginning  of  one  more  wealthy  family  in  this  boun 
tiful,  teeming  land.  And  although  she  protested, 
"What  are  we  doing?  He'll  live!  He  must!"— 
once  more  did  that  curious  novel  sense  of  power 
and  of  fresh,  new  life  steal  back  upon  her;  and 


80  MILLIONS 

again,  in  spite  of  herself,  up  out  of  her  inmost 
depths  came  pictures  of  what  her  life  might  be. 
Vistas  opened,  warm  and  stirring;  embryo  plans 
began  to  appear. 

Now  from  the  veiled  questions  and  the  indirect 
remarks  of  her  uncle  and  her  aunt,  she  knew  they 
both  took  it  for  granted  that  she  would  go  back  to 
Halesburg,  and  they  were  beginning  to  ask  what 
she  would  do  with  all  this  money.  To  begin  with, 
she  would  buy  back  the  old  home — her  Aunt  Abby 
plainly  hinted  at  that.  And  later,  from  a  remark 
of  her  uncle's  as  to  the  need  of  a  first  class  hospital 
in  their  town,  she  saw  where  his  thoughts  were 
running.  And  all  this  centered  on  herself.  She 
saw  that  they  both  pictured  her  as  the  great  woman 
figure  there.  With  a  slight  inner  smile,  she  thought, 
"I'd  rather  leave  that  to  Uncle  Phil.  He'd  so  love 
to  be  First  Citizen.  I'll  build  a  hospital  and  put 
him  in*  charge.  Yes,  and  I'll  buy  back  our  old  home, 
and  give  it  to  Aunt  Abby — with  money  enough  to 
run  it,  too,  and  have  a  little  ease  in  her  life,  and 
a  chance  to  marry  off  the  girls."  What  a  pleasant, 
gracious  figure  Aunt  Abby  would  make  in  that  old 
frame  house,  with  all  her  worries  smoothed  away. 

"But  what  about  me?  What  would  I  do?"  The 
moment  she  thought  about  herself,  she  said  uncon- 


MILLIONS  8 1' 

sciously  "would" — not  "will" — not  only  because  it 
seemed  selfish  and  hard  to  think  of  her  own  future, 
with  her  brother  still  alive,  but  because  it  was  all  too 
strange  and  tremendous,  this  question  of  "Millions 
— what  would  you  do?"  And  she  wanted  to  keep 
putting  it  off. 

But  it  could  not  be  put  off,  it  seemed.  For  as  she 
sat  impassive  there,  listening  to  her  relatives,  her 
own  thoughts  drifting  on  and  on — the  plans  began. 
"Would  I  keep  this  apartment?"  No,  Joe  Evans 
would  be  here.  Poor  boy,  how  lonely  and  lost  he'd 
be.  "On  account  of  the  business,"  she  told  herself, 
"I'd  see  a  good  deal  of  him,  I  suppose."  At  the 
queer  new  feeling  which  stirred  in  her  breast,  she 
frowned  and  tried  to  put  it  down,  but  up  again  in 
spite  of  her  came  that  deep  and  long  repressed,  dis 
turbing  Madge-that-might-have-been.  In  Joe's  room 
the  night  before,  she  had  seen  two  opera  tickets. 
She  recalled  them  now  and  reddened  slightly. 
Quickly  and  impatiently  she  turned  her  thoughts 
another  way — to  her  old  dream  of  a  business  career. 
For  a  moment  she  tried  to  picture  herself  as  one 
of  the  active  partners  in  an  immense  department 
store.  But  then  she  thought,  "If  all  this  money 
came  to  me,  why  should  I  spend  my  life  making 
more?  There's  so  much  else  a  woman  can  do." 


82  MILLIONS 

She  remembered  a  big  woman's  club  here  which 
she  had  often  read  about.  It  was  forever  starting 
things,  opening  up  new  fields  of  life  to  women  and 
girls,  rich  and  poor,  and  pulsing  with  activities,  the 
spirit  of  this  Woman's  Age.  Well,  and  she  would 
join  it  now;  and  with  her  own  abilities,  of  which  she 
felt  so  sure  to-night,  and  with  her  brother's  millions 
helping  to  open  door  after  door,  window  after 
window — she  caught  herself  up,  almost  with  a 
cry. 

"It  wouldn't  be  only  the  money,"  she  thought. 
"It  would  be  me — me — me!  Haven't  I  always 
known  I  had  it  in  me  if  I  got  the  chance?"  And 
at  last  the  chance  was  coming! 

Now  she  recollected  what  she  had  seen  the  night 
before,  looking  into  the  sparkling  city  night;  and 
she  found  herself  wanting  to  be  there  again,  alone, 
with  a  chance  to  think  more  clearly.  She  compressed 
her  lips  and  thought,  "I'm  not  likely  to  sleep  much 
to-night!" 

She  noticed  a  sudden  silence,  and  with  a  slight 
turn  of  her  head  she  saw  her  relatives  watching  her 
with  curious  eyes,  guessing  her  dreaming.  A  vivid 
blush  of  embarrassment  mounted  quickly  to  her 
cheeks.  To  cover  it,  Aunt  Abby  said,  with  a  sym 
pathetic  smile, 


MILLIONS  83 

"You  poor  child,  how  tired  and  nervous  you  must 
be.  You'll  need  a  good  rest  after  this." 

And  she  suggested  a  trip  abroad.  Listening, 
Madge  asked  herself,  "Shall  I  take  Aunt  Abby  with 
me?  What  a  wonderful  thing  it  would  be  for  her 
— one  real  spree  at  last  in  her  life!"  But  the  next 
minute  Madge  recalled  that  Amanda  Berry  and  she 
had  planned  to  go  over  and  work  for  Hoover — to 
work  hard,  in  the  seething  whirl  out  of  which  a  new 
world  was  being  born.  How  eagerly  they  had 
planned  for  that  adventure  over  seas — but  now  with 
all  this  money  behind  them  how  much  bigger  it 
might  be !  A  startled  look  came  into  her  eyes  as 
she  realized  all  that  she  might  do!  Just  for  a 
moment  she  saw  herself  hobnobbing  with  cabinet 
ministers — yes,  and  even  with  kings  and  queens! 
And  she  had  been  a  nobody,  only  one  short  day 
before!  Millions!  Oh,  it  was  funny! 

4 

But  about  ten  o'clock  Joe  Evans  arrived,  and  his 
coming  brought  back  to  her  with  a  rush  her  sense 
of  the  genial,  vigorous  life  which  had  been  in  these 
rooms.  "After  all,  it's  his  home  and  Gordon's,"  she 
though^.  "What  are  we  but  strangers,  and  what 
business  have  we  here?  We've  been  acting  as  if  we 


84  MILLIONS 

owned  the  place !"  Poor  Joe,  for  all  his  self-control, 
was  plainly  under  such  a  strain.  Her  sympathy 
went  out  to  him.  When  her  Uncle  Phil  inquired  if 
he  had  had  time  to  go  to  the  bank,  she  saw  Joe 
wince,  and  she  looked  away. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "and  here  it  is." 

From  his  pocket  he  took  an  envelope  and  handed 
it  to  Doctor  Cable.  Madge  knew  at  once  it  was 
Gordon's  will.  What  a  grim  looking  thing  it  was. 
She  stiffened  and  she  held  her  breath  while  her  uncle 
read  it  to  himself.  It  was  short,  thank  Heaven! 
In  a  minute  he  looked  up  at  her. 

"This  seems  to  be  quite  clear,  my  dear.  It's 
the  will  he  made  before  going  to  France,  and  it 
follows  what  he  said  in  his  letter."  Turning  to  Joe, 
Doctor  Cable  inquired,  "You  found  nothing  else?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Did  you  look  in  his  desk  at  the  office  and  any 
where  else  where  such  papers  might  be?" 

"Yes." 

"And— nothing?" 

"Nothing." 

In  the  brief  silence  which  followed,  Madge  could 
feel  that  their  thoughts,  like  her  own,  had  come  to 
Leonora  O'Brien.  In  a  troubled  tone,  Joe  said, 

"I  reckon  Miss  O'Brien  will  be  coming  pretty 


MILLIONS  85 

late  to-night.  It's  the  opening  night  of  her  play, 
you  see."  He  paused  uneasily.  "If  she  does,  I  hope 
you-all  will  remember  what  a  right  hard  time  this 
is  for  her.  It's  not  only  Gordon,  but  her  play.  I 
Jiaven't  seen  much  of  her  myself,  but  I've  seen 
enough  to  show  me  how  these  stage  people  are 
inside.  There  just  simply  isn't  anything  else  in  the 
world  for  them  but  the  theater — especially  on  an 
opening  night.  And  this  one  is  her  first  big  chance. 
It  may  make  her  a  star." 

"Well,  my  boy,  I  hope  it  does,"  said  Madge's 
uncle  smoothly,  with  that  indulgent  look  in  his  eyes. 
But  Aunt  Abby  said,  in  a  caustic  tone, 

"I'm  sorry  she  feels  she  must  come  here  to-night." 
Joe  Evans  turned  and  looked  at  her. 

"She  does  feel  so,"  he  answered.  She  met  his 
look  unflinchingly. 

"But  I  understand,"  she  said,  "that  you  don't 
believe  she's  engaged  to  Gordon." 

"No — I  don't  believe  she  is.  I  reckon  he  probably 
wanted  it — but  that  she  wouldn't." 

"She  wouldn't?    Why  not?" 

"He  wanted  her  to  give  up  the  stage." 

"Naturally !"  said  Mrs.  Dwight.  "And  you  mean 
to  say  she  refused?" 

"Yes,"  said  Joe,  "I  know  she  did." 


86  MILLIONS 

"Are  you  quite  sure  of  that?"  Doctor  Cable 
inquired. 

"Yes,  I  heard  them  argue  it  out." 

"Oh.    You  heard  them." 

"Yes,  sir." 

These  last  words,  though  in  a  low  tone,  were 
spoken  so  sharply  by  the  two  men  that  Madge  drew 
in  her  breath  with  a  gasp.  It  was  as  if  her  uncle 
had  said,  "Then  you  will  be  a  witness  to  that!" — 
and  as  if  Joe  Evans  had  replied,  "I  will !  But  for 
the  dear  God's  sake  let's  give  this  man  a  chance  to 
live!" 

She  clenched  her  small  hands,  held  herself;  and 
in  a  moment,  quiet  again,  she  said  to  Joe  in  a  steady 
voice, 

"I  do  so  hope  that  Gordon  will  be  better  in  the 
morning." 

"So  do  I,"  he  answered,  with  a  look  of  gratitude. 
He  had  risen.  "May  I  see  him  now?" 

"Yes— please!" 

She  took  him  in  and  left  him  there,  but  at  the 
door  she  could  not  resist  glancing  back.  By  the  bed, 
Joe,  tall  and  clumsy,  motionless,  stood  looking  down 
at  the  face  of  his  friend.  Again  she  noticed  his  big 
hands,  so  limp  and  helpless,  and  again  her  sympathy 
went  out  to  him.  "How  hard  for  him  it  would  be !" 


MILLIONS  87 

she  thought  With  the  rush  of  pity  came  again  that 
warm  tingle  through  her  being.  She  dismissed  it 
with  an  angry  frown.  "But  Gordon  is  going  to  live, 
you  know!'* 

When,  a  few  minutes  later,  Joe  came  back  into 
the  front  room,  his  whole  manner  had  changed.  It 
was  intense,  imperative. 

"I've  been  talking  to  the  nurse,"  he  said.  "It's 
nearly  forty-eight  hours  now,  and  every  hour  from 
now  on  his  chances  are  less,  if  he  doesn't  come  to. 
If  he  doesn't,  they've  got  to  operate !" 

"No." 

This  one  word  from  Uncle  Phil  made  the  younger 
man  turn  angrily.  But  Doctor  Cable  looked  steadily 
back. 

"I'm  a  physician  myself,"  he  said,  "with  a  good 
many  years  of  experience.  And  this  business  of 
cutting  into  a  man's  brain " 

"But  if  it's  his  only  chance,  sir!" 

"It  isn't.  His  only  possible  chance  is  to  be  left 
alone,  so  that  Nature  can  do  her  work." 

"Oh,  I  reckon  we  can't  count  much  on  that !  He 
was  hit  twice  in  France,  you  know,  and  he's  never 
been  the  same  man  since.  And  besides,  there's  been 
the  strain  in  his  business !  In  these  last  weeks " 

Doctor  Cable  cut  in.    "That  only  makes  me  more 


88  MILLIONS 

certain,"  he  said,  "of  the  danger  of  an  operation. 
And  I  think,"  he  concluded  with  emphasis,  uyou 
will  have  to  leave  this  for  us  to  decide." 

Joe  stared  for  a  moment,  then  turned  away.  But 
the  realization  of  the  power  of  Gordon's  family 
here,  which  came  to  him  in  that  instant,  had  showed 
so  plainly  on  his  face,  that  with  a  tightening  of  her 
whole  frame  Madge  said  to  her  uncle, 

"If  Mr.  Evans  wishes  it,  I  see  no  reason  why  we 
shouldn't  have  a  consultation." 

"I  would  like  it,"  Joe  put  in,  with  another  quick 
look  of  gratitude. 

"I  don't  see  any  need  of  it,"  said  Doctor  Cable, 
with  a  frown. 

"Still — it  can't  do  any  harm."  She  waited  a 
moment.  "And  I  think  we'd  better  just  decide  on 
that — for  to-morrow — if  there  is  no  change." 

In  the  awkward  silence,  she  turned  to  Joe. 

"Will  you  call  up  Doctor  Hoyt  and  arrange  it?" 

"Yes — at  once,"  Joe  answered.     "Thank  you!" 

As  he  went  to  the  telephone,  Madge  threw  a 
glance  at  her  uncle  and  aunt.  Uncle  Phil  wore  a 
look  of  stiff  surprise  at  her  quiet  assertion  of  power 
here.  Aunt  Abby  looked  humbly  admiring. 

"Yes,  Madge,  I  think  that's  wise,"  she  said. 

Madge  smiled  at  her  affectionately. 


MILLIONS  89 

"It's  nearly  eleven,  Auntie.  Don't  you  think 
you'd  better  go  to  bed?" 

Mrs.  Dwight's  face  took  on  at  once  an  expression 
of  anxious  indecision. 

"Do  you  think  I'd  better,  Madge?  I'm  quite 
ready  to  sit  up  all  night,  my  dear  child " 

"There  isn't  any  need  of  that.  Uncle  will  be  right 
here,  you  know " 

"But  there's  that  young  actress.  If  she 
comes  gallivanting  around " 

Madge  smiled  again. 

"If  she  does,  she  won't  care  to  talk  to  us.  Now 
come  along,  Aunt  Abby.  Please." 

5 

When  Madge  came  back  from  her  aunt's  room, 
her  Uncle  Phil  was  in  the  study,  reading  and  smok 
ing  a  cigar.  Joe  was  waiting  for  her.  He  said, 

"I've  arranged  for  the  consultation — for  to-mor 
row  morning  at  ten." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Evans,  I'm  so  glad  we  decided 
on  that."  There  was  a  slight  pause  and  then  she 
said,  "And  thank  you  for  the  roses,  too.  It  was 
very  thoughtful  and  kind,  I'm  sure." 

Embarrassed  herself,  she  saw  at  once  that  he  felt 
a  bit  awkward,  too. 


9O  MILLIONS 

"Oh,  it  was  nothing  at  all,"  he  said.  "Is  there 
nothing  else  I  can  do  for  you?" 

"No,  thanks — I  think  we've  done  everything 
now."  But  as  he  started  to  bid  her  good  night,  she 
added  with  a  little  smile,  "I  wish  you  wouldn't  go 
just  yet.  There's  so  much  I  want  to  ask  you — 
about  Gordon.  I  know  so  little,  you  see — and  I 
want  to.  This  has  made  me  feel  so  close  to  him." 

Soon  she  had  Joe  in  an  easy  chair.  "Why  don't 
you  smoke?"  she  suggested;  and  as  he  lit  a  cigarette 
she  picked  up  some  knitting  brought  with  her  from 
home,  and  in  a  tone  of  quiet  composure  began  with 
her  questions. 

To  them  both  had  come  again  a  sense  of  relief — 
this  time  at  the  thought  of  the  consultation.  The 
doctors  to-morrow  would  decide.  At  least  they 
themselves  had  done  all  they  could.  And  once  more 
she  instinctively  took  a  tone  as  though  her  brother 
would  surely  get  well.  "I  want  to  know  him  so 
much  better  after  this,"  she  said  to  Joe.  Her  ques 
tions — about  Gordon  in  France,  and  later  in  his 
life  over  here — were  of  a  kind  to  draw  out  what 
she  thought  was  the  very  best  in  him.  She  ignored 
this  dubious  love  affair,  and  kept  both  their  minds 
instead  on  her  brother's  bravery  at  the  Front  and 
his  friendly  human  qualities  brought  out  in  the  hard 


MILLIONS  91 

life  of  the  trenches.  Then  she  brought  her  questions 
back  to  New  York,  to  the  deepening  friendship  be 
tween  the  two  men  and  the  things  they  had  done* 
together  here.  She  asked  Joe  about  those  tickets  to 
the  opera  she  had  seen  in  his  room;  and  when  he 
said  that  Gordon  and  he  had  gone  several  times 
together,  she  at  once  inquired  eagerly  what  operas 
they  liked  the  best.  •  She  tried  to  show  him  that 
she,  too,  had  loved  good  music  always,  and  even 
from  her  corner  had  tried  to  keep  up  with  the  music 
world.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  her  knowledge  was 
scant.  But  when  she  made  one  awful  mistake  and 
instantly  guessed  it,  by  the  questioning  look  in  his 
eyes,  she  broke  off  quickly,  and  went  on, 

"It's  funny  you  love  good  music,  after  the  kind 
of  life  you've  led.  I  think  it's  so  nice." 

"I  didn't  like  it  at  first,"  he  said.  "Old  Gordy 
jest  had  to  drag  me  there.  But  I'm  getting  to  like 
it  better  now — when  it's  not  too  grand  and  scrump 
tious.  You  see,  I  always  did  like  singing — even  out 
in  Texas." 

She  caught  him  up  at  once  on  that. 

"Oh,  yes — I  meant  to  ask  you!  I  saw  a  little 
book  last  night — I  think  it  was  called  'Cowboy 
Songs.'  '  She  went  and  took  it  from  a  shelf,  and 
soon  she  had  him  telling  her  of  those  folk  songs  of 


92  MILLIONS 

the  early  days  when  the  cowboys  still  reigned  in 
the  great  South  West — songs  of  their  loves  and 
dissipations,  crimes  and  feuds,  heroic  deeds.  And 
he  told  her  of  the  long,  long  drives  from  Texas  far 
up  to  the  north  in  the  spring,  when  circling  'round 
the  herd  at  night  the  lonely  cowboy  sentinel,  on  a 
pony  half  asleep,  had  sung  lullabies  to  the  huge 
beasts  that  he  called  "little  doggies,"  to  keep  them 
quiet  and  prevent  the  danger  of  a  stampede.  Joe's 
soft,  deep  voice  grew  low  as  he  spoke;  in  his  eyes 
she  could  see  the  memories  rise  of  the  vast  rolling 
uplands,  the  shadowy  forms  of  hills  to  the  west,  the 
night's  immensity  overhead. 

On  and  on  and  on  they  talked — till  glancing  at  the 
clock  on  the  mantel  she  saw  that  it  was  midnight. 
With  a  look  at  Joe  she  saw  that  he  had  forgotten 
the  time,  and  with  a  tingling  feeling  she  bent  her 
head  to  her  knitting,  asking  questions  now  and  then, 
or  giving  him  quick  little  smiles  and  looks  of  under 
standing.  She  felt  vibrant,  all  alert.  At  something 
funny  that  he  told,  a  tense  little  laugh  burst  out 

of  her. 

6 

It  was  nearly  one  o'clock.  At  the  ringing  of  the 
door  bell,  they  both  looked  up  in  a  startled  way8 
Then  he  said, 


MILLIONS  93 

"I  reckon  that's  Miss  O'Brien.  Shall  I  go  to  the 
door?" 

"Yes,  please." 

As  he  did  so,  in  the  study  behind  her  Madge 
heard  her  uncle  get  up  from  his  chair.  "He  has 
been  there  all  the  time,"  she  thought,  "listening  to 
every  word  we  said!"  And  she  colored  a  little. 
Her  uncle  came  in  and  stood  waiting  with  his  eyes 
on  the  hall.  But  Leonora  stopped  out  there,  and 
with  a  sudden  pang  Madge  saw  both  hands  of  the 
young  actress  go  up  to  Joe's  shoulders  in  appeal. 

"How  is  he,  Joe?    Any  better  to-night?" 

"No,  Nora,  he's  jest  about  the  same." 

There  came  something  like  a  sob  from  the  girl, 
but  her  voice  was  hard  and  demanding: 

"And  are  we  to  go  on  doing  nothing — nothing?" 

"We're  doing  the  best  that  we  know  how,"  he 
answered  in  a  kindly  tone.  "Miss  Cable  will  tell 
you." 

With  that  he  brought  her  into  the  room;  but 
with  only  a  glance  at  Madge  and  her  uncle,  and  a 
brief  "Good  evening!" — abruptly  she  turned  back 
to  Joe. 

"But  when  I  was  here  last  night,"  she  said,  "the 
nurse  spoke  of  the  chance  of  an  operation!" 

Then  Madge  spoke  up : 


94  MILLIONS 

"We're  not  yet  sure  that  will  be  wise." 

The  girl  looked  at  her  quickly. 

"But  how  can  you  tell?"  she  demanded. 

Madge  looked  back  at  her  steadily,  now  with  open 
dislike  in  her  eyes. 

"My  uncle  is  a  physician,  you  know " 

Leonora  wheeled  upon  him  and  asked, 

"Do  you  feel  you  can  set  your  opinion  against 
that  of  the  best  surgeon  in  town?" 

Madge  heard  a  slight  indignant  gasp  and  saw 
her  aunt  in  the  doorway,  in  an  old  blue  dressing 
gown. 

"Oh,  Aunt  Abby,  won't  you  come  in?  This  is 
my  aunt,  Mrs.  Dwight — Miss  O'Brien." 

"How  do  you  do?"  said  Leonora,  with  a  curt, 
angry  nod  of  her  head. 

"Very  well,  I  thank  you,"  Aunt  Abby  replied,  with 
an  effort  at  quiet  dignity.  "I  understand  you  are  a 
friend  of  poor  Gordon's.  I'm  glad  to  meet  any 
friend  of  his.  He  was  like  my  own  son  as  a  boy, 
you  see;  and  in  this  very  critical  time " 

Leonora  cut  her  off.  With  a  nervous  twitch  of 
her  lips,  she  exclaimed, 

"Yes,  it  does  seem  critical — and  yet  we  seem  to 
be  doing  nothing — nothing!"  She  turned  to  Joe. 
"I  can't  go  on  like  this,  Joe!"  she  said,  in  a  voice 


MILLIONS  95 

loud  and  trembling.  "I  simply  can't — it  will  drive 
me  insane !  I  must  know  that  every  possible  thing 
is  being  done !" 

In  a  hard,  low  voice,  Madge  said  to  her, 

"It  is  being  done." 

"How  do  you  know  it  is?"  she  cried.  And  then, 
to  Joe,  "I  consider  that  we  should  have  at  once  a 
consultation,"  she  declared,  "of  the  very  biggest 
surgeons  in  town!" 

"You're  right,"  said  Joe,  "and  that's  what  we 
have  done.  Miss  Cable  has  arranged  for  that." 

"Oh."  With  a  slight  drop  in  her  voice.  "Then 
that  at  least  is  being  attended  to.  I'll  go  now  and 
see  Gordon  a  moment.  Will  you  come  with  me, 
Joe?"  she  asked. 

When  they  had  gone,  there  was  a  brief  silence. 
The  face  of  Mrs.  Dwight  was  a  study. 

"Well!"  she  began.  As  she  stopped,  to  find 
words  for  her  indignation,  Uncle  Phil  put  in  with 
a  twinkle,  "She  certainly  seems  to  own  the 


roost." 


"What  right  has  she?  What  right  has  she? 
Madge,"  cried  her  aunt,  in  a  quivering  tone,  "I 
think  you  should  put  a  stop  to  this !  Here's  Gordon 
at  the  point  of  death.  Any  moment  his  soul  may 
fly  to  his  Maker.  Is  this  any  time  to  have  actresses 


96  MILLIONS 

rushing  in  at  all  hours  of  the  night?"  In  her  wrath, 
poor  little  Mrs.  Dwight  gave  a  sound  between  a 
sob  and  a  snort.  She  was  fearfully  tired.  uTo  come 
here  with  the  paint  still  on  her  lips!  Lips  that 

I  haven't  any  doubt "    She  stopped  with  a  jerk 

and  began  again:  "I  see  it  all  now.  Mr.  Evans 
spoke  of  poor  Gordon's  health  as  being  depleted — 
lessening  his  chances  now.  It  was  due  to  a  strain 
in  business,  he  said.  I  begin  to  see  where  the  strain 
came  in!  And  I  say  we  should  put  a  stop  to  it!" 

But  before  Madge  could  reply  to  this,  her  uncle 
spoke  up  quietly: 

"Wait,  now,  wait — I'm  watching  this,  Abby — 
and,  rest  assured,  this  young  woman  will  not  be 
allowed  to  work  any  mischief  hereabouts.  If  the 
time  ever  comes " 

Uncle  Phil  stopped  short,  as  the  other  two  were 
heard  coming  back  from  Gordon's  room. 

As  Leonora  entered,  her  dark,  handsome  face 
was  impatient  still,  but  her  manner  was  not  so 
arrogant. 

"Joe  must  have  said  something  to  her,"  thought 
Madge.  "After  all,  I'm  Gordon's  sister — and  I 
don't  propose  to  let  her " 

"Good-night,  Miss  Cable,"  said  Leonora,  with 
an  effort  at  a  smile.  "I'm  so  glad  you  have  decided 


MILLIONS  97 

upon  a  consultation.  It  is  so  absolutely  the  only 
thing  for  us  to  do." 

"Yes,"  said  Madge,  in  a  more  friendly  tone,  "and 
I'm  trying  for  that — every  moment  I'm  here." 
Then,  as  Leonora  turned  to  go,  she  continued 
gently,  "You  have  not  told  us  of  your  play.  Was 
it  a  success,  do  you  think?" 

The  young  actress  gave  a  nervous  shrug. 

"I  hope  so — they  all  told  me  so.  That's  why  I'm 
so  late  in  coming  here.  They  all  came  crowding 
back  on  the  stage,  and  I  simply  couldn't  get 
away." 

Suddenly  there  came  to  Madge  a  vivid  picture  of 
that  scene.  Men  in  evening  clothes,  of  course,  with 
roses,  smiles  and  a  clamor  of  praise.  She  could 
picture  it  as  though  she  were  there.  She  had  read 
of  it  in  the  Sunday  papers. 

"I  see,"  she  said. 

"But  you  never  can  be  sure  till  you  read  the  notices 
the  next  day.  And  not  even  then,"  said  Leonora. 
She  broke  off  with  a  sigh  of  fatigue,  and  with  a 
"Good-night,"  she  left  the  room. 

Joe  followed  her  into  the  hall,  but  when  she  had 
gone  he  reappeared,  and  said  to  them  with  a  look  of 
concern, 

"You-all  mustn't  mind  her  manner  to-night — you 


98  MILLIONS 

jest  can't  judge  a  girl  like  that.  You  haven't  any 
idea  of  the  strain." 

"No,  I  don't  believe  we  have,"  said  Aunt  Abby. 
And  from  the  look  she  gave  him  poor  Joe  appeared 
to  shrink  into  himself. 

"I  wish  you  could  understand,"  he  said.  "Well, 
I  guess  I  must  be  going  now."  And  as  Madge  went 
with  him  into  the  hall,  he  added,  "I'll  be  here  in 
time  for  the  consultation  to-morrow,  of  course.  And 
you  know  where  you  can  reach  me  to-night,  if  any 
thing "  he  stopped.  "Good-night." 

"Good-night,"  she  said.  "I'm  sorry.  We'll  hope 
he  will  be  so  much  better  soon." 

"Yes,"  said  Joe. 

When  he  had  left,  she  turned  slowly  back  into 
the  room ;  and  at  once  Aunt  Abby  began  again : 

"I  repeat,  Madge,  that  if  I  were  you  I'd  keep 
that  woman  out  from  now  on !  Her  conduct  here — 
her  rudeness " 

"Yes,  Aunt  Abby,  I  know  all  that.  But — well, 
she's  different,  that's  all — and  the  main  point  is 
that  if  Gordon  were  conscious  he'd  want  her  here." 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"Mr.  Evans  says  so,"  Madge  replied,  "and  he 
knows  Gordon  pretty  well." 

"Mr.  Evans  is  only  a  poor  weak  boy!     She  has 


MILLIONS  99 

him  already  right  under  her  thumb!     If  Gordon 
dies,  hell  be  her  next!" 

Madge  gave  a  slight  start,  and  stiffened. 

"That's  hardly  our  business,  Aunt  Abby,"  she 

said. 

"It  15  our  business — yours  at  least — to  protect 

poor  Gordon!" 

"I'm  doing  so !" 

"Are  you?"  retorted  Mrs.  Dwight,  her  nerves  now 
plainly  all  on  edge.  "It  seems  to  me  you  are  setting 
aside  your  uncle's  best  judgment!" 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

"In  this  matter  of  an  operation!" 

"Oh,  no — I  want  his  judgment!"  said  Madge. 
"You  know  that,  don't  you,  Uncle  Phil?  But  I 
can't  see  how  it  can  do  any  harm  to  have  all 
the  best  opinions  and  surgical  advice  we  can 

get!" 

"Yes,  yes,  my  dear  girl— that's  all  right,"  said 
her  uncle  easily.  And  Aunt  Abby,  with  a  doubtful 
look  as  though  feeling  her  mistake,  continued,  "Well, 
if  you  say  so,  Phil."  And  then,  in  an  anxious, 
humble  tone,  "And  of  course,  Madge,  you  know  how 
I  feel.  I  don't  mean  to  assert  my  judgment  for 
one  minute  against  yours." 

"I  want  it,  Aunt  Abby!"     As  Madge  said  that, 


IOO  MILLIONS 

the  tears  welled  suddenly  in  her  eyes.  Oh,  what  a 
terrible  business  it  was! 

"Now,  now,  my  child,  try  to  get  some  sleep. n 
And  Mrs.  Dwight,  in  a  motherly  way,  put  an  arm 
around  her.  "I  declare,  it's  after  one  o'clock." 

But,  for  several  hours  after  that,  Madge  lay 
sleepless  on  her  bed.  At  first  her  eyes  felt  as  though 
nothing  could  close  them.  Again  and  again  her  tired 
mind  repeated,  "I'm  doing  my  level  best!  There's 
nothing  else  anyone  could  do !"  As  the  night  wore 
on,  she  felt  relieved  at  the  step  which  she  had  taken. 
"Let  the  doctors  fight  it  out,"  she  thought.  "How 
can  I  decide?  What  do  I  know?"  Gradually  she 
began  to  relax  and  drift  passively  on  as  before.  Her 
eyes  were  closed  now,  and  the  pictures  came — of 
herself  with  all  this  money,  here  in  New  York,  and 
then  abroad,  and  again  at  home  in  Halesburg.  But 
as  her  fancy  leaped  about,  suddenly  the  pictures 
stopped.  For  once  again,  as  the  certainty  came  that 
her  brother  could  not  possibly  live,  she  thought  of 
Joe,  and  everything  else  seemed  all  at  once  to  drop 
away.  She  lay  quite  still.  She  barely  breathed. 

"How  terribly  hard  it  will  be  for  him." 


CHAPTER  IV 


i 

THE  next  morning  when  the  surgeons  came,  after 
watching  the  gaunt  white  form  on  the  bed,  carefully 
scanning  his  record  and  questioning  his  partner,  they 
decided  not  to  operate.  Their  reasons  were  so  tech 
nical  that  Madge  could  make  nothing  of  their  talk 
— except  that  her  brother  still  had  a  slim  chance,  and 
that,  all  things  considered,  it  was  better  to  leave  him 
alone.  But  her  relief  was  swift  and  deep.  How 
she  would  have  hated  to  put  her  Uncle  Phil  aside 
and  take  full  responsibility  here!  She  reproached 
herself  for  not  having  trusted  his  instinct  and  his 
common  sense.  She  relied  on  him  now  and  showed 
that  she  did,  and  her  Aunt  Abby  did  the  same. 
Uncle  Phil  took  his  triumph  quietly,  but  from  the 
happy  light  in  his  eyes  you  might  have  thought 
Gordon  was  out  of  danger. 

"Madge,"  he  said,  "you  did  quite  right;  and  I'm 
sorry  I  tried  to  stand  in  your  way.  You  showed 
good  judgment  in  having  them  here.  Now  every 
one  is  satisfied." 

101 


102  MILLIONS 

Everyone  except  Joe  Evans.  Poor  Joe  looked 
pretty  desperate.  He  felt  that  Gordon  was  going 
to  die.  To  Madge  he  was  even  more  appealing 
than  he  had  been  the  night  before;  and  she  strove 
to  reassure  him.  Then,  as  he  was  leaving,  she 
asked, 

"Will  you  tell  Miss  O'Brien  the  result?" 

"Yes,  I'll  call  her  up  at  once." 

She  hesitated,  and  asked  him, 

"Have  you  seen  the  reviews  of  her  play?" 

"No,  I  forgot  to  read  them." 

"Better  do  it  before  you  call  her  up." 

Joe  looked  at  her  with  a  little  smile. 

"I  reckon  you're  learning  a  lot  in  this  town." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  so  sure  I  am.  Now  that  I  come 
to  think  of  it,  that  was  a  very  catty  remark.  I  want 
to  read  them  myself,"  she  said. 

And  when  he  had  gone  she  sent  out  for  the  papers, 
and  was  soon  absorbed  in  the  reviews  of  Leonora's 
play.  Some  praised  the  piece  and  others  condemned 
it,  but  all  had  nothing  but  praise  for  the  star.  And 
to  Madge  there  came  again  a  sense  of  the  warm, 
vivid  beauty  of  this  girl,  the  power  of  sex,  the 
glamour  of  fame.  It  disturbed  her  and  excited  her 
— made  death  seem  cold  and  far  away. 


MILLIONS  103 

2 

Her  cousin  Ray  arrived  at  noon.  About  twenty- 
six,  short,  brisk  and  keen,  with  a  gold  tooth,  a  wiry 
black  mustache,  and  a  dimple  in  one  cheek  which 
had  greatly  annoyed  him  as  a  boy — Ray  looked 
upon  life  with  the  genial  eye  of  a  practical  soul  who 
has  made  up  his  mind  to  get  his  wife  into  a  limousine 
quick,  and  feels  himself  man  enough  to  do  it — and 
to  put  diamonds  on  her,  too.  His  cheerful  assur 
ance  had  already  made  him  part  owner  in  the  garage 
where  he  worked.  With  automobiles  he  was  a 
wizard;  no  proposition  could  faze  him  long.  He 
was  practical — and  he  lost  no  time  in  beginning  to 
size  up  the  critical  situation  here.  He  greeted  his 
mother  affectionately,  for  Ray  was  always  kind  to 
her;  but  after  that  he  started  right  in.  His  voice 
was  low.  It  was  always  low.  Ray  disliked  all  loud- 
ness. 

"Well  now,  Mother,  shoot,"  he  said,  as  he  settled 
himself  into  a  chair.  "How's  Gordon?  Will  he 
make  the  grade?" 

"My  dear  boy,  he's  in  God's  hands." 

Her  son  gave  her  a  dubious  look. 

"Just  how  do  you  mean?" 

"His  life  hangs  by  a  thread." 

"Isn't  there  anything  we  can  do?" 


104  MILLIONS 

"I'm  afraid  not,  Ray,"  she  answered. 

"Well,  let's  have  a  look  at  the  facts  and  see  if 
there's  nothing  you've  overlooked,"  said  her  son, 
as  he  lit  a  cigarette.  "Just  what  are  we  up  against?" 

He  questioned  his  mother  and  Uncle  Phil.  As 
for  Madge,  he  rather  ignored  her — treating  her 
as  he  always  had,  as  a  person  who  just  didn't  count. 

"Well,"  he  said,  when  he  had  the  facts,  "it  strikes 
me  Gordon's  family  have  saved  his  life  already — 
once.  If  that  man  Hoyt  had  had  his  way,  poor  G. 
would  have  been  a  dead  one  now — he'd  have  slipped 
right  through  to  the  Promised  Land.  Lucky  for 
him  Uncle  Phil  was  here,  with  his  sound  horse-sense 
about  such  things.  Now  I  say,  let's  have  more  of  it 
— more  good  common  sense  in  this  shop  and  less  of 
this  modern  city  stuff.  Here's  Mother — one  of  the 
finest  nurses  ever  chased  a  germ  away.  And  she 
really  cares  for  poor  old  G.  So  I  say,  put  her  right 
in  charge — with  Madge  to  spell  her  out,  of  course 
— and  tell  these  two  thermometer-shakers  they  can, 
take  their  things  and  go.  Same  way  with  the  flapper, 
too.  We  don't  need  actresses  just  now,  so  let  her 
shimmy  somewhere  else.  In  other  words,"  he  ended, 
"give  Gordon's  family  a  chance." 

With  a  smile  of  amusement  Uncle  Phil  turned 
to  Madge  for  a  reply. 


MILLIONS  105 

"Well,  Madge,  what  do  you  say  to  this?" 

She  felt  Ray  glance  at  her  in  surprise. 

"I'm  afraid  I  don't  agree  with  you,  Ray,  on  either 
point,"  she  answered.  "Of  course  Aunt  Abby  is  a 
fine  nurse,  but  the  sort  of  nursing  needed  here " 

As  she  went  on  to  explain  in  detail,  she  saw  the 
surprise  on  his  face  increase.  With  his  shrewd 
blue  eyes  now  on  herself  and  now  upon  the  others, 
Ray  was  quick  to  realize  the  changed  position  of 
his  cousin. 

"As  for  Miss  O'Brien,"  she  went  on,  "I  can't 
say  I  like  her  much — but  so  long  as  Gordon's  part 
ner  tells  me  he  would  want  her  here,  I  think  we 
had  better  let  her  come — at  least  for  the  pres 


ent." 


"All  right,  Madge,"  he  assented.  "It's  all  up 
to  you,  of  course — and  so  long  as  you  are  satis 
fied " 

As  she  felt  him  nimbly  adapting  himself  to  the 
change  in  their  relations,  a  faint  smile  came  on  her 
lips.  She  remembered  his  manner  to  her  at  home, 
only  last  week  when  they  met  on  the  street.  Kindly 
enough,  but  just  passing  her  by.  While  now — what 
a  difference  money  did  make ! 

"I  must  go  and  see  about  lunch,"  she  said.  And 
she  thought,  "I'll  ask  the  nurse  to  have  hers  first 


IO6  MILLIONS 

and  let  Aunt  Abby  sit  with  Gordon.     She'll  like 
that.     She'll  feel  she's  doing  something." 

Madge  went  into  the  kitchen,  and  later  to  her 
brother's  room. 

3 

Meanwhile,  in  the  study,  Ray  was  having  a  talk 
with  his  uncle,  man  to  man.  Both  voices  were  low. 

"How  about  it,  Uncle  Phil — have  you  had  time," 
inquired  Ray,  "to  look  into  the  financial  end?" 

"Yes,  Ray,  I've  looked  into  it." 

"Located  that  will?" 

"I've  got  it  here." 

"No  complications?" 

"None  at  all." 

"Well,"  said  Ray,  "I'm  glad  of  that— for 
Madge's  sake.  What  kind  of  a  lad  is  this  Joe 
Evans?" 

"Oh,  he's  all  right — honest  as  the  day  is  long." 

"No  chance  of  any  indoor  sport  down  there  in 
the  office,  then." 

"Not  the  slightest." 

"What  do  you  think  of  young  O'Brien?" 

"Oh,  I  guess  she  can't  do  any  harm." 

"Pity  to  have  her  coming  here " 

"Yes,  in  a  way — but  so  long  as  Madge " 

"I  know — I  know."      Ray  smoked   a   moment, 


MILLIONS  107 

sententiously.     "Quite  a  change  for  our  Madge." 

"Yes." 

"Millions,  eh.  I  wonder  what  she'll  do  with 
it?" 

"Time  enough  to  bother  about  that,  if  Gordon 
dies,"  said  Doctor  Cable.  The  future  maker  of 
automobiles  shot  a  glance  at  his  uncle  and  asked, 

"What  do  you  think  of  his  chances?" 

"About  one  in  ten,  I  should  say." 

Ray  grew  thoughtful  for  a  while. 

"About  Young  Ireland,"  he  went  on.  "I  can't 
say  I'm  stuck  on  the  idea  of  that  young  flapper  hang 
ing  around.  Never  can  tell  with  a  girl  like  thrt. 
G.  might  get  conscious  at  the  end — and  with  her 
there,  and  him  so  weak,  poor  devil — she  might  put 
across  some  little  game  that  would  ball  up  the  whole 
damn  business." 

"I  know,  my  boy — I've  thought  of  that — but  I 
doubt  if  Gordon  will  come  to." 

"Still,  he  might — you  never  can  tell."  With 
puckered  brows,  Ray  smoked  some  more.  "I've 
been  trying  to  place  her.  O'Brien — O'Brien.  She's 
never  been  in  the  movies,  I  guess.  .  .  .  Say,  Uncle, 
have  you  any  idea  how  things  stood  between  her 
and  Gordon?" 

"They're  not  engaged " 


IO8  MILLIONS 

uOh,  Hell,"  said  Ray,  "you  know  what  I  mean." 
And  he  put  it  plain. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Uncle  Phil. 

"If  he  had,  it'd  make  some  difference." 

"Yes." 

"Damn  good  reason  to  keep  her  out — with  the 
women,  at  least." 

"Yes— that's  so." 

"Well,  then— say!"  With  a  sudden  idea.  "How 
about  this  joy-ride?" 

"What?" 

"Why,  Saturday  night,  when  he  had  the  smash. 
Was  she  with  him?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Haven't  you  seen  his  shofer?" 

"No." 

As  Ray  looked  at  his  uncle  then,  the  easy  genial 
pity  of  the  New  Generation  for  the  Old  showed 
quite  plainly  on  his  face. 

"Well,  it's  lucky  for  you,"  he  said,  "there's  a 
garage  man  in  this  family." 

4 

At  lunch,  Ray  said  to  his  cousin, 
"Madgy,  if  you  don't  object,  I'll  try  to  hunt  up 
Gordon's  shofer.    God  knows  what's  become  of  that 


MILLIONS  109 

auto  of  his,  since  the  smash  on  Saturday  night.  And 
here's  one  way  I  can  help  you — see?  It's  in  my  line." 

At  his  obvious  desire  to  please  her,  she  gave  him 
a  friendly  smile  and  said, 

"Why,  yes,  Ray,  I  wish  you  would." 

"That  will  get  him  out  of  the  way,"  she  thought. 
"And  I'll  have  Aunt  Abby  take  a  nap — and  Uncle 
Phil  can  sit  with  Gordon." 

She  was  getting  used  to  this  planning  now. 
Already  three  relatives  gathered  about,  waiting  for 
her  slightest  wish.  And  a  little  question  shot  into 
her  mind  as  to  how  many  more  would  be  coming, 
in  the  queer  rich  years  ahead.  Ray  and  his  viva 
cious  young  wife,  on  shopping  bees  and  theatre 
sprees;  then  Aunt  Abby,  Paul  and  the  girls;  and 
Uncle  Phil  and  his  family.  Some  of  them  would 
probably  hope  to  stay  with  her  for  weeks  at  a 
time.  How  fit  them  into  her  own  busy  life?  Sud 
denly  they  rose  before  her,  came  so  close  and  grew 
so  real,  she  could  almost  look  inside  and  see  what 
each  of  them  wanted  to  do  and  be  with  all  this 
money.  Sharply  compressing  her  thin  lips,  Madge 
rose  from  the  table.  Lunch  was  over. 

"Aunt  Abby,"  she  suggested,  "suppose  you  come 
and  take  a  nap?" 

"All  right,  my  child,  if  you  think  it  best." 


110  MILLIONS 

5 

When  Ray  came  back  in  an  hour  or  so,  Madge 
was  in  her  brother's  room ;  and  Uncle  Phil  took  his 
nephew  directly  into  the  study. 

"Well,  my  boy,  what  did  you  find?" 

"Not  much  of  anything  yet,"  said  Ray.  "Fact 
\s,  the  shofer  wouldn't  talk.  He's  a  coon,  and  a 
pretty  wise  one  at  that;  and  he  wasn't  loosening  up 
for  me  till  he  knew  exactly  how  things  stand,  and 
just  who's  who.  But  '$  knows  about  Madge  being 
boss  for  the  preser  ^r-lor  he  has  been  here  to  ask 
about  G.  So  I  tv/i  ;am  Madge  wanted  the  auto 
to  take  her  out  this  afternoon.  That'll  get  him 
kind  of  used  to  things." 

"The  auto  is  all  right,  then?" 

"Yes.  Front  axle  bent  an  inch  or  two,  but  it's 
already  straightened  out;  and  I've  ordered  a  new 
mud-guard.  They'll  have  it  on  this  afternoon.  It 
wasn't  much  of  a  smash,  at  that." 

As  Ray  went  on  to  give  details  of  his  encounter 
with  "the  coon,"  his  uncle  listened  with  amusement. 
He  never  had  thought  much  of  Ray,  and  yet  he 
rather  liked  the  boy. 

A  few  minutes  later  Madge  came  in. 

"Well,  Madge,  I've  found  the  car,"  said  her 
cousin,  "and  it  looks  in  pretty  good  shape — so  I 


MILLIONS  III 

told  the  shofer  to  bring  it  around.  I  thought  that 
you  and  Mother  might  want  to  get  out  for  a  little 
fresh  air.  Been  a  good  deal  of  a  strain  on  you 
both — cooped  up  in  here  like  a  couple  of  hens." 

Madge  thought  a  moment. 

"Why,  yes,  Ray,  I  think  that's  a  good  idea — I'll 
take  your  mother  out  for  a  ride.  You  and  Uncle 
Phil  will  be  here,  of  course." 

"You  bet,"  said  Ray.     "You  can  count  on  us." 

Aunt  Abby  demurred  a  bit  at  first,  but  was  soon 
persuaded.  She  put  on  her  old  fur  shoulder  cape, 
and  was  ready  when  the  car  arrived. 

"I'd  feel  a  little  easier,  Madge,  if  Ray  went  with 
us,"  she  proposed.  "That  is,  of  course,  if  you  don't 
mind.  Uncle  Phil  will  be  right  here,  you  know." 

"All  right,  Aunt  Abby — certainly."  And  they 
went  down  to  the  street. 

Madge  had  quite  a  thrill  when  she  saw  the  car. 
It  was  such  a  lovely  big  one — and  all  so  gleaming, 
smoothly  rich.  The  smart  young  darky  in  livery  was 
so  plainly  watching  her  out  of  the  corner  of  his 
eye,  as  his  probable  future  employer.  With  an 
awkward  smile,  she  helped  her  Aunt  Abby  to  get 
in,  and  sank  beside  her  into  the  seat;  and  she  felt  the 
leaping  power  beneath,  as  the  big  car  smoothly 
moved  away.  Ray  had  climbed  into  the  front  seat. 


112  MILLIONS 

When  they  came  to  Fifth  Avenue,  near  the  Park, 
he  told  the  chauffeur  to  turn  down  town,  and  smiling 
back  at  them  he  said, 

"Let's  show  Mother  a  little  life." 

6 

In  the  next  few  minutes,  sitting  there,  a  curious 
look  came  in  Madge's  eyes.  Why  did  it  all  appear 
so  changed?  She  had  seen  Fifth  Avenue  before,  a 
dozen  times.  uYes,  but  years  ago,"  she  thought, 
uand  it  keeps  growing  all  the  time  !"  But  the  change 
was  rather  in  herself.  For  this  street  is  really  noth 
ing  at  all  except  shop  windows,  flesh  and  clothes — 
while  it  is  a  thousand  different  things  to  a  thousand 
different  pairs  of  eyes.  It  is  brilliant — it  is  dull  as 
lead;  it  is  gay  and  amusing — stupid  and  coarse;  a 
lonely  place,  a  terrible  place — a  friendly,  human, 
lovable  place;  a  region  of  enchanted  dreams — a 
river  of  hard  and  greedy  eyes.  But  the  commonest 
miracle  of  all  is  the  way  in  a  twinkling  it  is  changed 
to  some  citizen  of  this  lusty  land  who  unexpectedly 
finds  himself  possessed  of  what  to  him  is  enormous 
wealth — ten  dollars  or  ten  million. 

Madge  looked  and  saw  a  thoroughfare  tumultuous 
with  color  and  sound,  and  moment  by  moment  she 
felt  an  increasing  friendly  curiosity  in  the  number- 


MILLIONS  113 

less  passers-by.  She  had  been  curious  before,  but 
on  those  visits  in  the  past  it  had  all  been  as  remote 
as  were  these  big  handsome  shops  from  the  Empo 
rium  at  home.  Now  the  great  windows  on  either 
side  all  seemed  to  be  saying  to  her,  "Come  in.  We 
are  ready  to  teach  you  the  joy  there  is  in  being 
warmly  and  richly  alive!"  Suddenly  she  saw  her 
self  as  the  active  owner  of  one  of  these  stores — 
sending  her  buyers  all  over  the  world  to  gather 
countless  exquisite  things;  and  learning,  learning, 
learning — studying  the  public  taste,  and  even  mould 
ing  it  at  times.  Watching  the  women  and  young 
girls  who  came  pouring  out  of  the  doorways,  she 
wondered  what  they  had  bought  inside ;  and  presently 
she  found  herself  making  quick  guesses  about  each 
one.  Some  were  so  atrociously  dressed,  she  could 
see  at  a  glance  that  Money,  the  Grand  High  Joker, 
would  always  make  them  comic  and  cheap.  There 
were  others  who  brought  an  admiring  gleam  into 
her  observant  blue-grey  eyes.  So  surely  had  they 
judged  themselves.  There  was  exquisite  taste  and 
imagination,  daring,  and  seduction  here.  But  sud 
denly  a  little  frown  of  annoyance  and  disillusion 
ment  swept  over  Madge's  face;  for  a  woman  beauti 
fully  dressed  passed  slowly  by  her  in  a  car,  and  her 
voice  was  nasal,  rasping. 


114  MILLIONS 

"How  stupid  of  her  not  to  think  of  that,  too!" 
Madge  had  taken  no  small  pride  in  her  own  clear, 
low  articulation,  and  she  eyed  the  glittering  stranger 
for  a  moment  with  contempt.  But  then  she  yielded 
herself  again  to  the  fascinations  of  it  all.  On  foot 
or  in  their  limousines,  off  they  went  by  perfect  thou 
sands.  Where  were  they  going?  Pictures  teemed 
into  her  mind  of  what  they  would  do  this  afternoon^. 
How  amusing  and  gay  it  was !  In  a  smart  town  car 
which  passed  her,  she  qaught  a  glimpse  of  two  young 
girls  in  perfect  gales  of  laughter,  one  of  them  with 
her  small  gloved  hands  making  quick  little  gestures 
as  she  talked.  "I  wonder  where  they  are  going?" 
asked  Madge.  And  then,  with  a  grim  little  smile, 
"And  where  would  I  be  going?  I  don't  know  a  soul 
in  town.  Where  would  I  even  make  a  beginning?" 
Inwardly  she  laughed  at  herself,  and  again  she  let 
her  fancy  fly. 

Then  something  hard,  compelling,  real,  drew  her 
back  from  the  gleaming  castles  in  air  to  the  grim 
present  and  the  past.  It  was  the  face  of  her  aunt 
at  her  side — the  lines  of  worry  left  by  the  years, 
and  the  hard  eagerness  of  to-day.  Hard?  Yes, 
hard — with  anxious  strain.  In  this  crisis  which 
might  mean  so  much  to  her  and  to  her  children,  the 
mask  of  every  day  was  gone,  the  face  was  naked,  and 


MILLIONS  115 

Madge  could  feel  the  swiftly  changing  moods  in 
side.  She  guessed  that  the  thoughts  of  her  aunt 
were  now  here,  now  back  at  home  with  her  three 
girls,  and  again  were  darting  far,  far  back  into  the 
bleak  existence  of  a  country  minister's  wife.  "All 
this  has  gone  on  day  and  night — while  I,  for  nearly 

fifty  years "  With  a  sigh  Aunt  Abby  relaxed 

a  bit  and  returned  to  these  present  sights  and  sounds. 
A  clever  seamstress  all  her  life,  there  was  a  sharp, 
curious  hunger  now  in  her  eyes  as  they  kept  leaping 
about — critical  here,  and  there  giving  praise.  More 
than  once  she  started  to  point  out  some  dainty  suit 
or  hat  to  Madge,  but  each  time  she  restrained  her 
self.  For  this  was  no  time  to  talk  of  such  things. 

But  no  such  restraint  embarrassed  her  son.  Always 
affectionate  with  his  mother,  he  kept  looking  back 
with  a  smile;  and  with  all  the  assurance  gained  in 
previous  brief  visits  here,  he  pointed  out  and  named 
for  her  the  big  shops  and  the  homes  of  millionaires. 
Only  once  he  showed  his  ignorance. 

"What  church  is  that,  Ray?"  his  mother  asked. 
He  answered  cheerfully, 

"Search  me,  Mother.  I'm  not  quite  up  on 
churches  here." 

In  a  caustic  tone,  Aunt  Abby  rejoined,  "Not  many 
people  seem  to  be.  And  it's  a  great  pity — when  you 


Il6  MILLIONS 

think  of  the  good  work  which  might  be  done  with 
all  this  money  rolling  about.  It  seems  as  though  the 
rest  of  us  just  work  and  scrimp  our  lives  away,  so 
that  these  New  Yorkers  can  riot  in  wealth  I" 

Ray  laughed  at  that. 

"Riot  is  good !"  he  cried.  "Pretty  good,  Mother !" 

But  Madge  gave  a  little  squeeze  to  her  hand.  And 
at  this,  in  an  instant  Aunt  Abby  turned,  she  squeezed 
her  niece's  hand  in  reply,  and  her  small  eyes  grew 
bright  with  tears.  Then  the  anxious  look  came  in 
them  again;  and  noticing  it,  Madge  told  herself, 
"Now  she's  thinking  what  she  can  get  out  of  this 
— not  for  herself  at  all,  poor  dear,  but  for  those 
eternal  children!"  And  sure  enough,  Mrs.  Dwight 
soon  began  to  speak  of  Paul  and  the  three  girls 
and  to  wonder  what  they  were  doing  at  home. 
Madge  grew  sympathetic  now,  and  by  an  occasional 
word  or  a  question  encouraged  her  to  talk  on  and 
on,  and  to  give  hints  of  her  wakening  dreams. 

But  Madge's  own  thoughts  were  right  here  in 
New  York.  The  car  had  stopped  in  a  traffic  jam, 
and  in  a  wide  shop  window  she  spied  a  small  blue 
evening  gown  which  shimmered  with  gold.  Instantly 
she  told  herself,  "There !  I  could  wear  that !"  The 
certainty  of  it  was  so  sharp,  it  brought  the  color 
into  her  cheeks.  But  the  next  moment,  inside  the 


MILLIONS  117 

shop,  a  small  pretty  woman  smartly  dressed  came 
to  the  window  with  one  of  the  clerks — and  now  she 
was  pointing  to  the  gown.  Great  Heavens!  She 
was  going  to  buy  it !  And  Madge  almost  cried  out 
to  her,  "Oh,  don't  do  that!  I  saw  it  first!  It's 
mine,  it's  mine  I" 

"What's  the  matter,  Madge?"  she  heard  from 
her  aunt.  With  a  quick,  unnatural  smile  she  said, 

"Oh,  nothing,  Aunt  Abby,  nothing  at  all.  You 
were  speaking  of  Ray's  new  baby,  weren't  you?" 

Soon  she  had  her  relative  rambling  on,  about  the 
life  in  Halesburg,  so  that  she  herself  could  continue 
to  build  the  picture  of  herself  in  New  York. 
Friends?  Oh,  they'd  come — they  always  did  when 
you  had  so  much  money.  "Besides,"  she  thought, 
"I'm  smart  enough.  I'm  not  a  perfect  little  goop." 
She  would  join  a  club,  to  begin  with,  and  grow  active 
on  committees  there — generous  with  her  money,  of 
course ;  and  so  she'd  make  friends,  and  they  in  time 
would  invite  her  to  their  homes.  She  saw  herself 
ranging  freely  from  large,  handsome  houses  to  cosy, 
small  apartments — warmly  welcomed  wherever  she 
went.  And  meanwhile,  watching  women  who  passed, 
she  asked,  "How  long  have  you  been  here?  What 
are  you  up  to?  Married  or  single?  How  old  are 
you?"  She  grew  interested  in  trying  to  guess  their 


Il8  MILLIONS 

ages,  and  she  soon  decided  that  most  of  them  were 
her  own  age  or  even  older.  Thirty-two  had  been 
old  in  Halesburg — here  apparently  it  was  young. 
As  she  eyed  one  gracious,  smiling  young  dame,  she 
thought,  "I'll  bet  you're  forty  if  you're  a  day.  How 
do  you  do  it?"  To  herself  she  felt  a  new  youth 
coming. 

Then  suddenly  she  heard  Ray's  voice.  He  had 
turned  on  his  seat  and  was  asking  her, 

"Suppose  anything  happens  to  poor  old  G.  Would 
you  keep  this  auto,  Madge?" 

She  winced  at  the  bad  taste  of  it.  Right  in  front 
of  the  chauffeur,  too!  What  could  Ray  be  think 
ing  of? 

"I  don't  know,  Ray,"  she  answered.  "I  don't  care 
to  think  of  that.  Now  suppose  we  go  to  the  Park." 

"All  right,  Madge,"  was  his  cheerful  reply.  "Just 
as  you  say.  We'll  be  there  in  a  minute." 

Engrossed  in  her  thoughts  and  intent  on  her 
watching,  she  had  not  noticed  that  long  ago  they  had 
turned  and  come  back  up  the  Avenue.  As  they 
entered  the  Park  in  the  autumn  dusk,  she  leaned 
back  in  deep  relief,  and  her  Aunt  Abby  did  the 
same. 

"Oh,  how  nice  this  is!"  sighed  Mrs.  Dwight. 

"You  bet  it  is !"  agreed  her  son,  and  he  gave  her 


MILLIONS  119 

a  smile  which  said,  "And  you're  going  to  have  some 
of  this,  Little  Mother." 

She  settled  back  and  half  closed  her  eyes,  and  for 
some  time  nobody  said  a  word.  Through  the  bare 
tree  branches  Madge  saw  distant  specks  of  light; 
by  hundreds  and  by  thousands,  from  tall  buildings 
all  about,  they  twinkled  at  her  through  the  haze. 
And  now  in  the  Park  the  lights  came  on  and  made 
a  purple  shining  road  that  went  winding  off  into  the 
night.  In  and  out  and  up  hill  and  down  the  big  car 
smoothly  made  its  way.  Other  cars  kept  passing. 
In  one  she  saw  a  man  and  a  girl  with  their  heads 
close  together;  she  heard  a  vibrant  teasing  laugh. 
Then  they  were  gone.  On  a  bridle  path  close  by  the 
road  she  spied  a  young  girl  cantering  home.  "I'd 
love  to  ride!"  she  told  herself.  She  had  always 
loved  fine  horses ;  she  knew  a  good  deal  about  them, 
too.  And  what  a  horse  she  might  have  now  I  She 
wondered  if  Joe  Evans  rode.  "No,  I  can't  see  him 
riding  here."  Indeed,  she  almost  heard  him  say,  in 
his  soft  Southern  voice,  "I  reckon  this  kind  of  ridin' 
in  parks  is  a  little  too  lady-like  for  me."  What  he 
wanted  was  to  go  back  to  a  ranch — as  soon  as  he 
had  money  enough.  Well,  there  would  be  money 
now.  Just  for  an  instant  she  saw  them  both  running 
a  big  ranch  out  West.  But  she  laughed  at  herself 


120  MILLIONS 

impatiently.  Queer,  how  this  money  was  taking  her 
fancy  flying  all  over  the  face  of  the  earth!  They 
passed  an  old  lady  out  for  a  drive  in  a  small,  old- 
fashioned,  open  cab.  How  nice  she  looked  in  it  I 
Madge  recalled  a  picture  she'd  seen  of  a  broad, 
gay  Paris  thoroughfare  with  any  number  of  cabs 
like  that.  "I'd  certainly  go  to  Paris!"  she  thought. 

On  the  front  seat,  Ray  and  the  chauffeur  were 
talking  in  low  voices  now;  but  she  did  not  notice 
them. 

Suddenfy  she  started  forward — sat  bolt  upright, 
quivering.  For  with  a  clanging  of  its  gong  an  ambu 
lance  came  rushing  by. 


CHAPTER  V 


WHEN  they  came  back  to  the  apartment,  Madge 
found  her  uncle  quietly  reading.  There  had  been 
no  change,  he  said.  Just  for  a  moment  she  went  and 
looked  in  at  the  door  of  the  cool,  dim  room,  at  the 
motionless  white  figure  there.  No,  there  was  noth 
ing  at  all  she  could  do.  So  she  went  to  her  room 
to  rest.  On  the  way,  she  heard  Ray  and  Uncle 
Phil  in  the  study.  Though  the  door  was  closed,  it 
seemed  to  her  that  their  voices  had  a  hungry  sound. 
In  an  instant,  without  warning,  she  felt  unhappy  and 
Unstrung. 

"Oh,  to  have  it  over — settled  one  way  or  the 
other!"  she  thought. 

But  after  getting  off  her  clothes,  she  grew  quiet 
again  and  lay  on  her  bed  quite  motionless,  her  mind 
a  blank.  Presently  there  was  a  tap  at  the  door,  and 
Aunt  Abby  came  into  the  room,  in  her  old  blue 
dressing  gown. 

"Madge,"  she  said,  in  an  undertone,  "I  don't  see 

121 


122  MILLIONS 

why  we  have  to  have  that  chit  of  a  nurse  sit  with 
us  at  meals.  Why  can't  she  wait  till  the  night 
nurse  comes  and  then  go  and  get  her  supper  at 
home?" 

"Oh,  Auntie,"  said  Madge,  wearily,  "does  it 
make  any  difference?" 

"Yes,  it  does — it's  a  time  when  we  want  to  be 
alone,  and  keep  the  family  to  itself!  And  I'll  bet 
you  that  if  we  were  city  folks  she  wouldn't  even 
presume  to  suggest  it!  I  tell  you,"  said  little  Mrs. 
Dwight,  "I  won't  be  trodden  under  foot  by  actresses 
and  nurses  here!" 

Madge  smiled  at  her  and  suggested, 

"Why  don't  you  go  and  ask  Uncle  Phil?  He 
probably  knows  what  the  custom  is." 

"Very  well,  I  will." 

Her  aunt  went  away,  but  soon  returned  with  a 
gloomy  air. 

"Yes,"  she  announced,  "he  says  they  expect  it." 

And  obviously  Miss  Cochran  did,  for  as  soon  as 
'dinner  was  announced  she  came  to  the  dining  room 
with  the  rest. 

2 

Feeling  her  presence,  the  talk  at  first  was  rather 
constrained.  At  the  very  start,  when  by  lifelong 
habit  Doctor  Cable  bowed  his  head  and  began  to 


MILLIONS  123 

ask    the   blessing — "For    what    we    are    about    to 

receive "  he  stopped  for  just  an  instant,   and 

Madge  felt  an  unpleasant  thrill  go  all  around  the 
table.  And  though  at  once  he  went  smoothly  on — 
"may  the  Good  Lord  make  us  thankful" — still  for  a 
moment  longer  they  all  kept  their  eyes  on  their 
plates.  When  she  lifted  hers,  Madge  thought  she 
detected  a  slight  smile  on  Miss  Cochran's  lips.  She 
frowned,  and  eyed  the  forks  and  knives,  and  won 
dered  which  of  them  to  use  in  the  courses  which 
were  coming.  She  was  sorry  she  had  not  told  old 
Abe  to  give  them  a  plain,  simple  meal.  Evidently 
anxious  to  please,  he  was  going  to  serve  a  regular 
dinner.  "Is  that  what  he  thinks  of  us?"  she  asked; 
and  when  he  inquired  a  little  later  if  they  would  have 
sherry  or  Scotch,  she  started  to  answer,  "Nothing 
at  all."  But  she  noticed  the  look  on  her  cousin's 
face,  and  asked  instead, 

"Would  you  two  men  like  something  to  drink?" 
"No,  thank  you,  Madge,"  said  Uncle  Phil;  but 
Ray  answered,  "Whiskey,  please."  And  as  the  drink 
was  poured  for  him,  he  said,  with  a  genial  upward 
glance,  "Just  leave  it  on  the  table,  Abe."  Avoiding 
his  mother's  look  of  displeasure,  he  cheerfully 
remarked  to  his  uncle,  "This  town  don't  seem  so  very 
dry.  I  guess  the  law's  just  for  the  rest  of  us."  And 


124  MILLIONS 

then  to  Aunt  Abby  he  proposed,  "Don't  you  want 
some  sherry,  Mother?  It  would  kind  of  tonic  you 
up." 

"No,  thank  you,  Ray.  This  soup  is  tonic  enough 
for  me.  It's  perfectly  delicious,  Madge." 

Gradually,  as  the  meal  progressed,  they  forgot 
the  young  nurse  sitting  there,  and  their  talk  all 
centered  on  themselves — as  the  family  feeling  rose 
again.  They  spoke  of  some  members  dead  and 
gone,  and  of  others  who  were  living  out  west  and 
should  perhaps  be  notified.  They  came  back  to 
Gordon  then  and  continued  to  build  the  image  of 
the  lovable  boy  they  had  known.  And  through  all 
the  anecdotes  ran  the  thought,  "He  was  one  of  us. 
It  was  out  of  us,  and  with  our  help,  that  he  rose  to 
this."  Aunt  Abby  had  mothered  him  when  he  was 
small;  Uncle  Phil  had  given  him  his  first  job;  and 
years  later,  in  the  fall  of  1914,  when  he  came  up  to 
Halesburg,  it  was  through  his  uncle's  endorsement 
that  Gordon  had  been  able  to  borrow  from  the 
local  bank  the  money  he  needed  in  order  to  buy 
options  on  three  forlorn  old  sailing  vessels  rotting 
at  a  dock  in  Troy.  So  his  fortune  was  begun;  for, 
as  Ray  expressed  it,  "Those  three  old  sea  girlies 
were  certainly  some  War  Brides  for  G."  He  had 
sold  at  a  profit  and  had  gone  on  to  buy  ship  after 


MILLIONS  125 

ship— -sailers,  steamers,  neglected  old  hulks — until 
by  the  time  of  the  submarine  crisis  he  was  the  owner 
of  quite  a  fleet. 

"But  the  thing  I  like  to  think  of  best,"  said  Aunt 
Abby,  placidly,  "is  the  way,  when  his  country  called, 
Gordon  threw  away  his  chance  to  make  a  princely 
fortune,  and  volunteered  in  the  first  week.  Of 
course,"  she  added  the  next  moment,  with  an  affec 
tionate  smile  at  her  son,  "he  was  fixed  so  he  could. 
He  wasn't  like  Ray,  with  a  wife  and  baby  to  support. 
But  I'm  proud  that  when  the  need  grew  great  Ray 
answered,  Tm  ready,  Uncle  Sam' — like  all  the  rest 
of  the  boys  in  our  family.  I  think  we  have  a  right 
to  be  proud.  Madge,  too,  with  her  splendid  Red 
Cross  work — and  Uncle  Phil,  and  Paul  and  the 
girls." 

She  was  going  on  to  give  the  entire  family  honor 
roll,  but  Ray  cut  her  off  by  telling  of  his  find 
ing  Gordon  wounded  in  a  big  hospital  in 
France. 

"And  what  do  you  think  he  asked  me  first — right 
off  the  bat?"  inquired  Ray,  whose  tongue  had  been 
loosened  by  the  Scotch.  "  'How  about  the  U. 
Boats?'  See?  G.  was  licking  the  Kaiser  all  righty 
— doing  his  bit  like  a  regular  man;  but  he  wasn't 
forgetting  those  ships  of  his,  those  little  old  War 


126  MILLIONS 

Bride  painted  girls!  No,  sir,  not  for  a  minute,  he 
wasn't !  And  when  he  got  back  to  God's  Own  Coun 
try,  how  he  did  ride  in  on  the  boom!" 

"It  seems  perfectly  marvellous  to  me,"  said  Aunt 
Abby,  with  a  sigh,  "for  a  man  to  make  millions — 
all  in  a  year !" 

"He  took  some  awful  chances — you  bet!  Lucky 
for  him  he  got  out  of  ships  before  the  crash !"  her 
son  declared.  As  he  talked,  Ray  had  been  eating 
fast.  From  the  decanter  before  him,  he  now  poured 
another  drink,  ignoring  his  mother's  reproachful 
eyes. 

As  the  plates  were  changed  for  the  salad  course, 
they  recalled  the  presence  of  the  nurse,  and  there 
was  silence  for  a  time.  But  it  could  not  last,  for 
beneath  it  ran  the  thought  of  Gordon's  wealth,  soon 
to  be  family  property;  and  not  only  Ray  but  his 
mother  and  uncle  were  soon  talking  as  before. 
Madge  watched  them.  Yes,  in  her  cousin's  case 
it  was  partly  due  to  whiskey;  but  the  others  had 
taken  nothing  at  all.  They  had  no  need  of  drink, 
she  thought.  The  tonic  of  the  situation  was  so 
strong  that  it  was  a  strain  to  keep  down  the  hopes 
and  images — even  for  little  Mrs.  Dwight,  who  spoke 
with  a  forced  composure  but  whose  gentle  voice  was 
tremulous  and  whose  grey  head  kept  nodding  from 


MILLIONS  127 

sheer  excitement.     The  birth  mark  on  her  temple 
could  be  seen  distinctly  now. 

"I've  never  given  up  faith  in  the  boy,"  Uncle  Phil 
was  saying.  "No  matter  how  some  people  talked, 
I've  always  felt  that  sooner  or  later  a  large,  generous 
share  of  his  wealth  would  come  back  home  to  Hales- 
burg,  that  he  would  do  something  big  for  his 


town." 


He  had  hoped  it  would  be  a  hospital,  he  said, 
which  would  bear  the  family  name — "  writ  large  for 
every  man  to  see."  And  as  he  went  on  to  speak  of 
what  untold  good  a  few  hundred  thousand  dollars 
might  do  in  the  service  of  humanity,  Madge  could 
feel  him  picturing  the  small  house  of  mercy  more 
and  more  clearly  in  his  mind — with  himself  in  charge, 
of  course.  Small?  Not  very.  For  as  he  talked  on, 
the  hospital  grew  larger,  larger.  There  were  to  be 
several  doctors  and  a  score  of  nurses,  it  appeared. 
Nor  was  it  to  be  a  mere  local  affair.  He  told  of 
what  the  Mayo  Brothers  had  done  in  their  little 
town  out  west.  And  presently,  with  a  slight  start, 
Madge  recalled  that  long  ago  it  had  been  her  uncle's 
cherished  dream  to  build  a  great  hospital  which 
should  win  a  national  fame.  The  dream  had  been 
buried  all  these  years,  while  he  was  running  a  drug 
store  and  drifting  into  a  settled  old  age.  But  still 


128  MILLIONS 

it  was  there,  it  had  never  died;  and  it  had  risen  now 
with  a  force  which  took  all  the  smooth  quiet  out 
of  his  voice  and  made  him  forget  to  wipe  the  crumbs 
from  his  large,  flowing,  soft  moustache. 

But  glancing  around  the  table  Madge  saw  that 
the  others  were  not  listening. 

Aunt  Abby  had  interrupted  to  say  that  Ruth,  her 
second  daughter,  had  always  wanted  to  be  a  trained 
nurse.  But  abruptly  she  fell  silent;  and  as  Uncle 
Phil  talked  on,  Madge  could  see  in  her  aunt's  bright 
eyes  how  her  thoughts  were  racing  on  to  the  time 
when  every  one  of  her  daughters  would  have 
children  of  her  own,  and  the  merry  little  boys 
and  girls  would  be  coming  to  visit  their  grandmother 
in  the  lovely  old  house  on  the  river  bank.  In  her 
face  was  a  warm,  eager  light.  Madge  thought  of 
the  girls  at  home  this  evening.  If  their  mother  was 
so  excited,  what  a  state  must  they  be  in !  She  could 
almost  hear  their  strong,  clear  voices,  almost  see 
their  hungry  eyes: — painting  their  pictures,  dreaming 
their  dreams— as  they  sat  talking — waiting  for  a 
telegram — waiting  for  the  new  life  to  begin!  Sud 
denly  it  was  as  though  they  all  came  crowding  right 
into  the  room,  each  one  of  them  queerly  tense,  each 
one  naked  and  revealed  as  in  a  sudden  glare  of  light, 
and  whispering,  "Millions!  Millions!  All  this 


MILLIONS  129 

money  will  soon  be  yours !  You  can  make  our  lives 
all  over — take  us  to  Europe,  buy  us  clothes,  give  us 
husbands,  homes  and  children !  You'll  be  a  different 
woman,  Madge — you'll  live  in  a  perfectly  dazzling 
world!  Remember  us!  Remember  us  I" 

As  her  fancy  started  to  soar  away  up  vistas  that 
were  all  her  own,  into  her  thinking  by  degrees  came 
the  incisive  voice  of  her  cousin.  Ray  had  been  talk 
ing  of  his  garage.  She  had  not  listened,  but  all  at 
once  she  looked  up  with  a  jerk  of  her  head.  Garage  ? 
No — a  whole  factory  now !  Ray  was  making  auto 
mobiles  !  After  speaking  in  a  critical  tone  of  Henry 
Ford  and  his  swift  success,  Ray  began  to  tell  them  of 
the  uauto"  of  his  dreams.  For  years  it  had  lain  in 
the  back  of  his  mind. 

"I  took  it  to  bed  with  me  every  night  and  nursed 
it  like  a  new  born  babe !  And  believe  me,  when  I 
get  my  chance,  that  auto  will  be  some  baby!"  he 
cried. 

He  lifted  his  glass  with  a  quivering  hand,  eyes 
fairly  ablaze  with  his  vision  of  whirring  wheels  and 
grease  and  din.  But  catching  the  look  on  his 
mother's  face,  his  jaw  dropped,  he  came  to  himself; 
and  remembering  their  postiion  here,  he  relapsed, 
and  rather  sheepishly  he  began  to  eat  his  ice  cream. 
There  was  a  brief  silence.  Miss  Cochran  rose. 


130  MILLIONS 

"If  you'll  excuse  me,  Miss  Cable,"  she  said,  "Fd 
better  be  going  back  to  him  now.  Miss  FieM  is  a 
little  late  to-night." 

"No  change  since  I  was  in  there  last?"  inquired 
Madge.  The  young  nurse  smiled. 

"Yes — I  think  he's  a  little  better." 

Each  one  of  them  seemed  to  give  a  start. 

"Oh — that's  good,"  Madge  answered 


In  the  silence  which  came  after  the  departure  of 
the  nurse,  Madge  caught  Ray  and  Uncle  Phil  ex 
changing  glances  in  a  way  that  plainly  had  some 
thing  to  do  with  herself.  She  remembered  the 
hungry  sound  of  their  voices  in  the  study  before  din 
ner.  Now  what  had  they  been  cooking  up?  She 
waited  till  Ray  had  finished  his  cream;  and  then, 
recalling  a  sentence  in  a  novel  she  had  read,  she 
rose  and  said, 

"Suppose  that  we  have  our  coffee  brought  into 
the  other  room." 

In  the  living  room,  while  they  sat  waiting  for 
the  coffee  to  come  in,  Ray  picked  up  an  evening  paper. 
There  were  several  lying  about,  for  just  before 
dinner  Madge  had  been  reading  some  more  accounts 


MILLIONS  131 

of  Leonora's  opening  night.  Ray's  keen  eye  soon 
lit  on  her  name. 

"Hello,  folks,  listen  to  this,"  he  said.  "  'Leonora 
O'Brien  Stars  in  New  Play.'  Do  you  want  to  hear 
it?" 

"Yes,"  said  his  mother. 

"All  righty — here  goes."  And  Ray  began: 
"  'Whether  or  not  the  play  of  last  night  is  a  success, 
Leonora  O'Brien  has  gone  far  toward  winning  her 
place  as  an  emotional  actress  and  comedienne  of  no 
average  abilities.' ' 

As  he  read  on,  his  mother  sat  bolt  upright  in 
her  chair,  with  her  small  eyes  fixed  on  her  niece  in 
a  curious  way  which  made  Madge  ask,  "Why  is  she 
watching  me  like  that?"  Old  Abe  came  in.  Madge 
poured  the  coffee.  Ray  finished  his  reading,  took 
a  cup,  sat  down  and  lit  a  cigarette. 

"Well,"  said  his  mother,  after  a  pause,  "that 
ought  to  settle  it,  I  suppose." 

Madge  turned  her  head. 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"What  do  I  mean?  Could  you  be  a  successful 
comedy  actress  when  you  knew  the  man  you  loved 
was  lying  at  the  point  of  death?" 

"I'm  not  an  actress.     She  is,"  said  Madge. 

At  that,  she  heard  a  chuckle  from  Ray. 


MILLIONS 

"You're  dead  right  there — she's  an  actress,  all 
righty — every  minute  of  her  life."  He  drew  on  his 
cigarette  and  said,  "Been  acting  up  to  Gordon,  too." 

Madge  threw  a  keen  look  at  him. 

ujust  what  do  you  mean  by  that,  Ray?"  she 
demanded. 

He  glanced  at  her  and  then  at  his  uncle,  with  a 
far  from  easy  manner.  "What's  the  matter  with 
him?"  she  asked.  Doctor  Cable  went  to  the  door 
and  closed  it,  after  looking  into  the  hall.  Then  he 
came  back  and  sat  down  and  said, 

"I  guess  you'd  better  tell  them,  Ray." 

Ray  was  fairly  scowling  now.  As  he  glanced  at 
his  mother,  his  whole  manner  was  that  of  a  man 
who  has  something  melodramatic  to  say  and  hates 
to  say  it. 

"To  be  honest,"  he  began,  "I  can't  say  I'm  stuck 
on  the  job.  It's  not  exactly  the  kind  of  stuff  you're 
used  to  hearing,  Mother.  Madge  neither.  And  it's 

not  in  my  line.  But "  he  paused  and  scowled 

again.  "The  point  is  that  back  at  home,  in  that 
little  old  garage  of  mine,  I've  learned  enough  to 
teach  me  that  if  you  want  to  get  right  down  to  the 
bed  rock  of  a  rich  man's  life,  you  want  to  see  his 
shofer.  So  I  did  it — in  this  case."  Nervously  he 
inhaled  again,  blew  out  the  smoke  with  an  air  of 


MILLIONS  133 

distaste,  and  continued  earnestly,  "I  don't  want  you 
to  think  I'm  sitting  in  judgment  on  poor  old  G.  He 
was  simply  human — a  man  with  a  wad,  and  unat 
tached.  But — well,  if  you  want  'em,  the  facts  are 
these. 

"I  found  the  coon  close-mouthed  at  first;  but  after 
the  ride  this  afternoon,  when  he  got  to  know  me 
better  and  to  see  just  how  things  stood,  he  loosened 
up  like  a  regular  fellah.  He's  been  Gordon's  shofer 
about  two  months.  Always  changing  bosses — here 
one  day  and  gone  the  next — they  don't  get  attached 
so  you'd  notice  it.  So,  as  I  said,  he  opened  up  and 
let  the  cat  right  out  of  the  bag.  First,  he  told  of 
the  accident  Saturday  night.  It  was  along  abotft 
one  a.  m. — up  along  the  Concourse,  just  this  side 
of  Fordham  Road.  It  seems  that  our  young  flapper 
friend  was  in  the  car,  and  there  were  two  or  three 
others,  besides,  from  the  theatre — quite  a  party. 
Evans  was  probably  in  it,  too — though  I  didn't  go 
into  that  with  the  coon,  nor  into  details  of  the 
smash.  All  that  I  was  after  was  this  young  O'Brien 
girl — I  wanted  to  get  her  number.  It  took  some 
careful  handling — but  after  he  had  strung  me  along 
for  quite  a  while,  the  shofer  said  that  a  good  many 
nights  in  the  last  few  weeks  Gordon  took  the  lady 
out — with  a  bunch  of  others  sometimes — but  more 


134  MILLIONS 

often  it  was  a  two-some,  which  lasted  on  right 
through  the  night.  And — well,  I  guess  you  can 
imagine  the  rest  of  it,  if  you  want  to." 

uWe  don't  want  to,"  Madge  cut  in.  She  felt 
their  glances  turn  to  her,  and  she  reddened  slightly; 
she  felt  confused.  But  her  voice  was  hard  and 
cold.  "It  seems  to  me,  Ray,"  she  said  to  her 
cousin,  "that  through  this  ignorant  negro  you've 
been  digging  up  what  is  nobody's  business  but  Gor 
don's." 

Ray  flushed  angrily  and  rose. 

"Oh,  well,  if  you  want  to  take  it  like  that — of 
course  there's  nothing  more  to  be  said!" 

"Wait,  Ray,  wait,"  said  Uncle  Phil ;  and  to  Madge 
he  added  evenly,  "You  ought  to  know  Ray  well 
enough  to  realize  he  wouldn't  be  telling  such  things, 
at  such  a  time,  unless  it  had  some  real  bearing  on 
Gordon's  case  and  our  action  here." 

"How  can  it  have?" 

"Listen.     Go  on,  Ray." 

"Well,"  said  Ray,  "it's  simply  this.  He  gave  me 
the  names  of  a  number  of  road  houses — see? — out 
around  the  city — where  they  spent  the  night  to 
gether,  registering  as  man  and  wife."  With  a 
scowl  Ray  lit  a  fresh  cigarette.  "I  guess  that's  all 
I  want  to  tell." 


MILLIONS  I3S 

There  was  silence.    Then  Aunt  Abby  said, 

"I  should  think  it  was  enough !" 

"Yes,  I  don't  think  we  need  hear  any  more," 
Madge  put  in.    But  her  aunt  went  on, 

"A  nice  sort  of  girl  to  be  coming  here — to  his 
very  death  bed!" 

With  a  gleam  of  understanding,  Madge  turned 
to  her  uncle. 

"And  you  believe  now  we  should  keep  her  from 
coming.  Is  that  it,  Uncle  Phil?" 

He  looked  at  her  steadily. 

"What  do  you  think?" 

The  directness  of  his  question  made  her  draw 
back.  She  looked  away. 

"I  don't  quite  know." 

"Don't  know?"  cried  her  aunt. 

"No,  Aunt  Abby,"  she  replied,  in  a  hard,  vexed 
tone.  Disgusted  and  angry,  her  thoughts  went  to 
Joe  Evans  now — or  rather,  they  returned  to  him; 
for  ever  since  her  cousin  had  said,  "Evans  was  prob 
ably  in  it,  too" — she  had  found  it  hard  to  keep  her 
mind  clear.  Was  that  the  sort  of  man  he  was? 
Midnight  rides  with  actresses?  Perhaps  he,  too, 
had  a  little  friend,  some  cheap  pal  of  Leonora's! 
How  friendly  he  had  been  to  the  girl,  taking  her 
part  in  these  last  days,  though  he  knew  all  the  time 


136  MILLIONS 

what  kind  she  was !  Oh,  how  disgusting  men  could 
be!  ...  Then  all  at  once  she  refused  to  believe 
it.  "No,"  she  decided,  "I  don't  believe  he  had  any 
thing  to  do  with  it!"  Aloud  she  said,  "I  wonder 
if  Mr.  Evans  knew?" 

"You  bet  he  knew,"  Ray  answered.  "You  can  be 
sure  there  have  been  some  wild  parties — right  in 
this  room.  I  shouldn't  wonder  a  bit,"  he  went  on, 
with  a  faint  expectant  light  in  his  eyes,  "if  there 
had  been  more  than  one  little  two-some  right  in 
that  chair  where  Mother  is  now." 

Aunt  Abby  bounced  up,  but  seeing  his  smile  she 
glared  at  him,  then  recovered  herself. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "what's  done  is  done! 
But " 

Madge  interrupted.  "Exactly,  Aunt  Abby,"  she 
said,  coldly.  "It's  their  own  business — Gordon's 
and  Mr.  Evans'.  If  they  did  care  for  that  sort  of 
thing,  I  don't  see  it  concerns  us  in  the  least!"  Her 
voice  was  a  bit  unsteady;  she  felt  as  though  she  were 
going  to  cry.  Angrily  she  restrained  herself. 

Uncle  Phil  spoke  up,  smoothly  and  kindly. 

"I  quite  agree  with  you  there,"  he  said.  "After 
all,  it's  a  free  country — and  a  man's  life  is  his  own 
affair.  But  his  death  belongs  to  his  family."  Madge 
winced  at  this,  but  he  went  on.  "It  seems  to  me 


MILLIONS  137 

that  from  now  on  we'd  better  just  drop  this  young 
woman  out.  We've  tried  to  be  fair  to  her,  Lord 
knows.  Though  she  was  infernally  rude  to  us,  we 
have  let  her  come  here  night  after  night.  But  now 
that  we  know  the  facts  in  the  case,  I  should  say 
that  the  kindest  thing  to  poor  Gordon  is  just  to 
forget  her  and  put  her  aside." 

"Yes,  Phil,"  said  Aunt  Abby,  "I  think  that  is 
eminently  wise." 

As  Madge  looked  from  one  to  another  then,  she 
had  a  sense  of  the  grim,  sure  power  of  Family  here. 
Except  for  Aunt  Abby's  outburst,  there  had  been 
no  excitement.  There  was  no  need.  Leonora  was 
simply  to  be  put  aside.  "Well,  she  deserves  it! 
Serves  her  right!"  Madge  thought,  with  a  thrill 
of  satisfaction.  But  a  moment  later,  she  added, 
"No,  it  isn't  fair!" 

"How  do  we  know,"  she  asked  them,  "that  this 
negro  spoke  the  truth?" 

"He  seemed  to  be  sure  enough  of  his  facts,"  said 
Ray.  "When  I  nailed  him  down,  he  gave  me  the 
places  and  the  dates — all  in  the  last  six  weeks  or  so. 
Of  course  I  can  follow  it  up,  if  you  like " 

"No,"  she  said,  quickly,  "there's  no  need  of  that." 

"You  mean  that  you  agree  with  us?"  inquired 
Doctor  Cable. 


138  MILLIONS 

"Not  exactly,"  Madge  replied.  She  did  not  want 
to  decide  it  yet.  "Even  supposing  this  is  true,  how 
do  we  know  they  didn't  mean  to  marry?" 

"You  have  her  own  word  for  that.  And  if  you 
will  allow  me,  Madge,"  said  her  uncle,  in  a  fatherly 
tone,  "I'd  like  to  make  sure  that  she  has  no  chance 
of  defrauding  you  here." 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

Then  Ray  spoke  up : 

"I  guess  I  can  make  that  clear  enough.  The 
girl's  a  vamp  and  she  got  poor  G.  exactly  where 
she  wanted  him.  Now  she  wants  to  be  with  him 
alone.  Why?  For  all  practical  purposes,  the  poor 
devil's  like  a  corpse — and  flappers  don't  like  to 
shimmy  with  stiffs.  No,  sir,  cold  cash — that's  what 
she's  after.  Watchful  waiting  is  her  game.  The 
minute  Gordon  comes  to  his  senses,  even  if  he's 
a  dying  man,  she'll  get  a  statement  out  of  him  that'll 
put  her  right  in  your  shoes !  God  knows  what  letters 
she  has,  as  it  is.  You  can  bet  she  has  a  shyster 
lawyer  coaching  her  on  every  move  I" 

Doctor  Cable  had  listened  in  quiet  amusement. 
Now  with  a  twinkle  he  put  in, 

"I  guess  you  go  to  the  movies,  Ray." 

"I  don't  have  to.    I  run  a  garage." 

"Well,"  said  Uncle  Phil,  easily,  "there's  nothing 


MILLIONS  139 

to  be  excited  about,  The  whole  control  is  still  in 
our  hands."  He  turned  to  his  niece.  "The  situa 
tion  is  simply  this.  Here's  a  young  'emotional 
actress'  who  has  played  on  Gordon's  affections  so 
successfully  that  the  money  which  might  have  been 
spent  in  his  home  town  for  useful  ends  has  been 
lavished  on  her.  How,  as  you  say,  is  none  of  our 
business.  IVe  nothing  to  say  whatever  against  her 
morals  or  her  life.  Still,  it's  a  little  too  much  to 
expect  us  to  help  her  now  to  rob  you,  Madge " 

"I  don't  believe  she  means  to!" 

"I  feel  pretty  sure  she  does,  my  dear,  and  that 
we'd  better  keep  her  out." 

"I  don't  want  to!"  Madge  replied.  "Do  you 
mean  to  say,"  she  demanded,  "that  she  would  go 
in  there  with  a  will,  when  Gordon  was  dying,  and 
ask  him  to  sign  it?" 

"That  wouldn't  be  necessary,"  he  said.  He  hesi 
tated,  and  went  on,  "I  got  an  old  lawyer  friend 
of  mine  on  the  telephone  this  afternoon."  Madge 
gave  him  a  sharp  look  of  surprise,  but  he  continued 
smoothly,  "I  put  a  similar  case  to  him  and  asked 
what  a  shrewd  attorney  would  advise  such  a  woman 
to  do.  And  it  appears  the  course  is  plain.  Donata 
causa  mortis  was,  I  believe,  the  term  he  used — which 
in  plain  English  means  that  a  dying  man  can  convey 


140  MILLIONS 

his  property  to  another  by  a  simple  verbal  state 
ment  of  his  desire  to  that  effect — in  the  presence 
of  a  third  party,  of  course,  acting  as  a  witness. 
In  this  case^  it  would  be  the  nurse — who  is  more  than 
friendly  to  Miss  O'Brien." 

Madge  stared  at  him. 

"All  right,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice.  "If  he 
really  wants  to  give  her  his  money,  what  right  have 
we  to  interfere?" 

"None  whatever,"  he  replied,  "if  Gordon  really 
wants  to.  But  speaking  as  a  physician  now,  I  can 
assure  you,  my  dear  girl,  that  if  Gordon  comes  to, 
before  he  dies,  his  mind  will  be  blurred  and  his  will 
like  a  feather.  How  can  we  tell  what  he  really 
wants?  He  will  not  be  himself  at  all.  And  yet 
he  may  appear  to  be — so  that  what  he  says  may 
easily  be  held  valid  in  court.  Is  it  right  to  let  her 
see  him,  then,  and  excite  him  to  any  such  act  in  her 
favor?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know — and  I  do  so  hate  to  have  any 
thing  to  do  with  this!  It's  so  terribly  hard  to  see 
what's  right!"  she  answered.  But  her  tone  had 
weakened,  and  this  her  uncle  was  prompt  to  detect. 

"Exactly.  What  is  right?"  he  asked.  "That's 
what  we  all  of  us  want  to  know.  But  we  are  Gor 
don's  family,  Madge — what  right  has  this  girl  com- 


MILLIONS  141 

pared  to  ours  ?  What  need  has  she  ?  Think  of  your 
Aunt  Abby  here,  who  mothered  Gordon  as  a  boy — 
what  a  little  money  would  mean  in  her  life."  Dis 
regarding  Aunt  Abby's  murmur  of  protest,  Uncle 
Phil  went  steadily  on:  "Think  of  all  the  good  you 
could  do  in  our  town — and  in  your  own  life — in  a 
thousand  ways.  For  it  is  no  flattery  to  say  that  you 
are  just  the  sort  of  woman,  able,  smart  and  gen 
erous,  who  would  make  splendid  use  of  wealth. 
Then  think  of  this  young  actress,  as  you  have  seen 
her  here  at  night — in  silks,  bedizened  and  perfumed. 
It's  easy  to  think  how  she  would  scatter  Gordon's 
money  about  town.  But  I  don't  want  to  think  of 
her,  or  of  that  side  of  Gordon's  life.  The  boy  is 
dying.  Let's  be  kind.  And  one  thing  seems  so 
clear  to  me.  This  is  no  time  to  have  such  a  woman 
here  as  one  of  the  family." 
Madge  sat  silent,  trembling. 
"Well?"  he  asked  her.  "What  do  you  say?" 
"Perhaps  you're  right.  I  want  to  think  it  over." 
"You  haven't  much  time,  have  you?"  from  Ray. 
"She  may  be  coming  before  long." 

Madge  glanced  angrily  at  the  clock  and  felt  how 
time  was  pushing  her.  The  telephone  rang.  Ray 
went,  and  came  back. 

"For  you,"  he  said.     "It's  that  man,  Evans." 


142  MILLIONS 

"Oh."  She  went  to  the  telephone;  and  listening 
they  heard  her  say,  "Yes?  .  .  .  Oh,  good  evening 
.  .  .  The  nurse  says  he's  a  little  better  to-night." 
Her  voice  was  cold.  "Yes — so  am  I.  ...  No, 
thank  you,  Mr.  Evans,  there's  nothing  whatever  you 
can  do."  She  hung  up  the  receiver.  The  sound  of 
Joe's  voice  had  brought  sharply  back  that  wave  of 
anger  and  disgust  at  the  thought  of  the  life  he  and 
Gordon  had  led.  She  came  back  into  the  living 
room. 

"Is  he  coming  to-night?"  Aunt  Abby  asked. 

"I  don't  think  so,"  Madge  replied. 

"He  may,  you  know,  with  his  friend,  Miss 
O'Brien." 

Madge  gave  her  an  impatient  glance. 

"He  won't  do  that,  Aunt  Abby."  And  turning 
to  Doctor  Cable,  she  said,  "I  quite  agree  with  you, 
Uncle  Phil — I  mean,  I  do  for  the  present  at  least. 
Gordon  may  get  much  better  soon — we  all  of  us  hope 
and  pray  that  he  will.  And  then  we  can  follow  his 
wishes  here.  But  so  long  as  he  is  unconscious  now, 
I  don't  see  why  we  should  let  this  girl  come  in  and 
order  us  all  about,  as  though  she  owned  him  body 
and  soul,  and  we  were  just  dirt  beneath  her  feet." 

"Good,"  said  her  uncle.     "Then  that's  settled." 

He  patted  her  shoulder  approvingly,  and  with  an 


MILLIONS  143 

expression  of  relief  picked  up  an  evening  paper  and 
sank  back  into  a  chair. 

"That's  so  sensible,  my  dear,"  said  Aunt  Abby, 
gently. 

"You  bet  it  is,"  put  in  her  son.  He  had  picked 
up  a  paper,  too;  and  his  mother  took  her  knitting, 
and  presently  Madge  did  the  same.  For  a  long 
time  a  grim  quiet  prevailed — broken  only  by  the 
sound  of  a  crumpled  newspaper  page  or  by  the  noise 
from  the  street  below. 

Madge  was  still  quivering  a  bit.  As  she  bent  over 
her  needle,  her  thoughts  went  back  to  Sunday  eve 
ning,  when  she  had  been  here  alone.  How  far 
behind  her  it  seemed  now !  Looking  restlessly  up 
from  her  work,  her  glance  was  caught  by  the  face 
of  her  aunt — relaxing  for  a  moment  but  then  tighten 
ing  again.  How  plain  her  birthmark  showed  to 
night.  Yes,  now  the  crisis  must  be  near!  Thank 
goodness  f 

Doctor  Cable  got  up  and  went  out,  and  she  knew 
he  had  gone  to  her  brother's  room.  He  came  back, 
sat  down  and  lit  a  cigar.  She  could  see  his  hand 
tremble  slightly.  Ray  glanced  from  his  paper  up 
at  the  clock.  It  was  almost  eleven  now.  Soon  that 
wretched  girl  would  be  here !  Madge  dreaded  her 
coming  and  the  thought  of  how  they  were  to  handle 


144  MILLIONS 

her.     But  the  composed,  steady  face  of  her  uncle 
seemed  to  say, 

"Leave  this  to  me.     It  will  be  done  quietly — no 
fuss  and  feathers.     I'll  give  her  no  chance  to  make 


a  scene." 


And  the  whole  group  gave  an  appearance  like 
that — grim  and  quiet,  practical,  determined  there 
should  be  no  fuss,  no  noisy  melodrama  here. 

4 

When  at  last  the  bell  was  heard  to  ring,  nobody 
moved  but  Uncle  Phil. 

"I'll  go,"  he  said,  and  went  out  to  the  door.  The 
next  moment  they  heard  her  voice  in  the  hall : 

"Good  evening!     I  understand  he  is  better!" 

"No,"  he  replied,  "there  is  no  marked  change." 

"But — I  don't  understand  how  that  can  be!"" 
Leonora  exclaimed,  as  she  came  in.  "Good  eve 
ning!"  she  said  to  the  others.  "Good  evening,  Miss 
O'Brien,"  said  Madge,  but  the  girl  turned  back  on 
Doctor  Cable,  and  went  on  excitedly,  "The  nurse 
telephoned  me  he  was  better  to-night!" 

"Did  she?  I  don't  agree  with  her."  His  voice 
had  a  slightly  ominous  ring.  "She  seems  to  be  quite 
a  friend  of  yours." 

"I'll  go  and  talk  to  her  myself!" 


MILLIONS  145 

But  as  she  started,  he  stood  in  her  way. 

"I  don't  think  you  had  better  see  Gordon  to 
night." 

A  sudden  silence. 

" Why  not,  may  I  ask?" 

"Simply,  my  dear  young  woman,  because  I'm  a 
physician  and  I  do  not  deem  it  wise." 

uBut — you  can't  keep  me  out  like  that!  You're 
not  the  physician  in  charge  of  this  case !" 

And  she  turned  indignantly  to  Madge.  But  before 
the  latter  could  answer,  Doctor  Cable  held  up  his 
hand. 

"I'm  Gordon's  uncle,"  he  replied,  "and  so  far  as 
you  are  concerned,  I  represent  his  family  here." 

"His  family?  What  do  you  mean  by  that? 
You're  strangers — every  one  of  you!  You  mean 
nothing  to  him,  one  way  or  the  other!  I  tell  you 
that  I  shall  insist  on  seeing  him — at  once,  if  you 
please!" 

"I'm  afraid  that  is  impossible."  Uncle  Phil's 
voice  was  still  steady  and  low.  "Now  don't  let  us 
have  any  scene  about  this.  We  don't  want  to  be 
unreasonable,  but  there  is  one  point  to  be  made  very 
plain.  Before  you  can  keep  coming  here,  giving 
orders  as  though  you  owned  this  man,  you  will  have 
to  show  us  good  reason  why." 


146  MILLIONS 

Leonora's  dark  face  went  suddenly  pale,  her  big 
black  eyes  grew  furious,  and  with  quivering  lips  she 
asked, 

"What  right  have  you  to " 

He  cut  in :  "We  have  the  only  possible  right.  My 
nephew  is  at  the  point  of  death,  and  we  are  his  next 
of  kin — that  is,  we  are,  so  far  as  we  know.  If  you 
have  anything  to  tell  us — of  any  marriage  or  promise 
of  marriage " 

"I'll  tell  you  nothing  of  the  kind!  All  that  is 
necessary  for  you  to  know  is  that  Gordon  cares  for 
me,  that  he  wants  me  here,  that  he  doesn't  want 
you!" 

"How    do    we    know    that?      He    is    uncon 


scious." 


"Has  he  been  unconscious  all  these  years?  Has 
he  ever  shown  he  wanted  you?  Or  even  you?"  she 
cried  to  Madge.  Madge  grew  rigid,  set  her  teeth. 
In  a  low,  hard  voice  she  said, 

"Oh,  how  stupid  you  are  to  talk  like  this!" 

"Phil,"  said  Aunt  Abby,  sharply,  "I  think  that 
we  have  heard  enough!" 

"Oh,  have  you?"  Leonora  cried.  As  she  turned 
to  Mrs.  Dwight,  her  voice  was  loud  and  shaking. 
"We'll  see  about  that!" 

"Very  well,  young  woman,  we'll  see  about  that — 


MILLIONS  147 

if  you  must  have  it  so,"  said  Uncle  Phil.  "Will  you 
take  a  seat?" 

"No,  thank  you !    Where  is  the  telephone  ?" 

"What  do  you  want  the  telephone  for?"  inquired 
Ray,  with  irony.  "Want  to  get  your  lawyer  here?" 

"No — I  Want  Joe  Evans !  He'll  make  it  perfectly 
plain,  I  think,  that  Gordon  wants  me — wants  me 
here!" 

"I'm  afraid  he  couldn't,  Miss  O'Brien,"  Doctor 
Cable  answered.  "He  could  only  tell  us  what  Gor 
don  wanted  a  week  ago — when  he  was  on  the  crest 
of  the  wave — and  that  is  quite  another  thing.  The 
question  we  have  to  decide  is  this :  Would  he  want 
to  see  you  now,  when  he  is  at  the  point  of  death? 
Mr.  Evans  is  his  business  partner — nothing  more. 
We  are  Gordon's  family — and  any  decision  of  this 
kind  rests  entirely  in  our  hands." 

"It  does,  does  it?  We'll  see  about  that!"  But 
she  said  it  this  time  mechanically;  and  as  she  stood 
trembling  there,  her  face  showed  a  dawning  realiza 
tion  of  the  power  of  this  group — so  grim  and  silent, 
watching  her.  Uncle  Phil  went  smoothly  on: 

"I've  no  doubt  that  Mr.  Evans  is  well  versed  in 
Gordon's  business  affairs,  and  even  in  his  recent 
life.  But  this  is  a  moment  which  concerns  not  only 
my  nephew's  last  few  years  but  his  entire  existence, 


148  MILLIONS 

from  the  time  when  he  was  a  boy — when  we  all 
knew  him  intimately.  Habits  and  moral  standards 
formed  at  home  in  those  early  days  have  a  way  of 
coming  back  to  a  man  when  he  lies  so  close  to  death. 
I  know,  for  I  was  a  physician  for  years.  In  the  full 
tide  of  his  career  a  young  man  will  want  one  thing — 
but  suddenly  facing  eternity  he  will  want  another. 
This  is  a  moment  of  that  kind — and  neither  a  busi 
ness  partner,  nor  even  a  young  companion  so  allur 
ing  as  yourself,  can  judge  of  his  wishes  at  such  a 
time.  That  is  for  his  family." 

She  stared  at  him. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "don't  you  think  you  had  better 
be  saying  good-night?" 

"No— no— I  don't  think  that " 

Suddenly  she  burst  into  tears  and  dropped  into 
a  chair,  with  her  face  in  her  hands.  Madge  was 
standing  close  to  Ray,  and  she  heard  him  say  in 
disgust  to  his  mother, 

"Now  for  some  regular  movie  stuff  I" 

An  angry  flush  came  on  Madge's  face.  Confused, 
ashamed  and  excited,  she  went  quickly  to  the  girl, 
and  in  a  voice  hard  with  strain  she  said, 

"Now  will  you  please,  please  make  an  effort  to — 
to  face  this  quietly!  I  know  it  isn't  easy — but  all 
we  ask  is  to  have  it  made  clear!  If  you  and  my 


MILLIONS  149 

brother  cared  for  each  other — if  you  can  really 
make  us  feel  that  he  cares  for  you  more  than  any 
one  else " 

"Oh,  he  does — he  does — he  does !" 

"But  in  what  way?"  asked  Uncle  Phil  sternly, 
again  taking  matters  into  his  hands.  "You  don't 
claim  to  be  his  wife,  nor  even  that  you  are  engaged 
to  him.  And  yet  we  find  that  on  not  one  but  a 
number  of  occasions  you  have  let  him  take  you  to 
little  out-of-the-way  hotels,  where  you  registered 
as  man  and  wife!" 

Leonora  sprang  up  with  a  furious  cry;  but  before 
she  could  answer,  Ray  cut  in : 

"How  about  the  eighth  of  October — Sunday 
night — at  the  B —  Hotel?  I  guess  you  know  the 
place  I  mean  I"  And  sharply  he  named  several  more, 
reading  them  off  from  the  back  of  an  envelope,  on 
which  places  and  dates  were  scrawled.  She  looked 
at  him  with  blazing  eyes;  but  she  let  him  go  on,  and 
she  seemed  to  Madge  to  be  making  a  desperate  effort 
to  think  of  something  she  could  do.  At  the  end, 
with  a  smile  of  disdain,  she  said, 

"Oh,  what's  the  use  of  trying  to  make  such  people 
understand?" 

"Such  people  indeed!"  Aunt  Abby  cried.  "Now, 
Miss  O'Brien,  you'd  better  go!  This  solemn  hour 


150  MILLIONS 

is  no  time  for  a  woman  like  yourself  to  be  here  I 
If  my  poor  misguided  nephew  ever  wanted  you  at 
all — it  was  like — like " 

" — a  cocktail,"  Ray  added.  And  that  finished 
her.  With  a  last  glare  at  them,  she  cried, 

"If  he  lives,  you  people  will  pay  for  this!"  And 
then  she  made  quickly  for  the  door.  As  Uncle  Phil 
followed  her,  he  replied, 

"We're  quite  ready  to  pay  anything — so  long  as 
we  know  we  are  doing  what  seems  to  us  to  be  wise 
and  right." 

The  next  moment  the  door  slammed  in  the  hall, 
and  coming  back  into  the  room,  he  said,  "Well,  that's 

done "  with  a  breath  of  relief.  There  was  a 

brief  silence. 

"Do  you  suppose  she'll  make  any  other  move?" 
asked  Mrs.  Dwight,  uneasily. 

"No,  I  don't  think  so,"  he  replied. 

"There  ain't  a  thing  she  can  do,"  said  Ray. 
"You  managed  that  mighty  well,  Uncle  Phil."  And 
the  expression  in  Ray's  face  said,  "Pretty  good  for 
an  old  fogy." 

In  a  moment  Madge  asked,  in  a  low  voice, 

"I  wonder  if  by  any  chance  he  did  really  mean 
to  marry  her?" 

"Marry  her?    No,"  said  Uncle  Phil;  and  with  a 


MILLIONS  151 

patient  look  he  asked,  "Don't  you  think  we  have  had 
discussion  enough?" 

"Seems  kind  of  rough  on  poor  old  G.,"  said  Ray, 
in  a  reproachful  tone,  "to  be  talking  all  this  about 
him  just  now — washing  his  dirty  linen " 

"Quite  right,  Ray,"  his  mother  agreed.  "And  I 
for  one  am  glad  to  be  done  with  it  and  to  forget. 
Besides,  I  think  we're  all  of  us  pretty  thoroughly 
tired  out." 

"Yes,  Auntie,  and  I'm  going  to  bed,"  said  Madge, 
in  a  voice  of  weariness. 

"That's  wise,  my  dear  child,"  her  uncle  approved, 
"try  to  get  what  rest  you  can.  I'm  not  sleepy  my 
self — you  can  count  on  me.  I'll  be  sitting  up  still 
for  an  hour  or  two,  in  case  there  is  any  need  of  my 
help.  And  I  know  we  can  depend  on  the  nurse." 

"Can  we?"  Ray  asked,  quickly.  "How  about  her 
'phoning  the  flapper  to-night  that  Gordon  was  bet 
ter?  Don't  that  look  as  though  she  were  in  her 
pay?" 

"Ray,"  replied  his  uncle,  with  a  quizzical  look 
en  his  face,  "your  garage  philosophy  has  done  very 
well  to-day,  but  don't  let's  have  any  more  of  it  now. 
Let  Madge  and  your  mother  go  to  bed." 


CHAPTER  VI 

i 

LONG  after  she  had  retired  Madge  lay  staring 
at  the  light  which  struck  from  the  city  far  beneath 
up  to  the  ceiling  over  her  head.  "Should  I  have 
let  them  keep  her  out?"  How  cheap  it  had  been — 
disgusting!  But  was  it  her  uncle's  fault?  Hadn't 
he  tried  his  best  to  avoid  it?  Wasn't  Leonora 
the  one  who  had  insisted  on  making  a  scene?  Her 
mind  went  back  to  Ray's  revelations.  "And  she 
didn't  deny  it!  It's  true!"  If  anyone  had  called 
her  a  prude,  Madge  would  have  been  at  once  in 
dignant;  she  thought  herself  very  liberal-minded. 
But  this  sort  of  thing,  at  a  time  like  this — well,  it 
was  just  plain  disgusting! 

"If  they  had  ever  meant  to  get  married,  she  cer 
tainly  would  have  told  us  so !" 

With  cold  dislike  she  forced  her  mind  back  over 
the  last  two  days  and  nights.  "No,  we've  done 
our  level  best;  we've  left  nothing  undone  to  keep 
him  alive.  And  as  for  this  girl,  what  good  could 

she  do  him?     He's  unconscious,  isn't  he?" 

152 


MILLIONS  153 

With  a  restless  breath,  she  got  out  of  bed  and 
went  to  the  window.  There  for  some  moments  star 
ing  down,  she  grew  quieter,  and  she  told  herself  she 
was  sick  and  tired  of  it  all.  Far  below  her  to  the 
west,  the  broad  river  lay  white  beneath  the  moon; 
and  she  pictured  it  that  evening  several  hundred 
miles  to  the  northward,  flowing  smoothly  by  the  old 
house  where  she  had  lived  and  played  with  Gordon 
— long  ago. 

But  suddenly  Ray's  words  came  back:  "Wild 
doings  right  in  this  apartment!"  And  she  stiffened 
at  the  thought.  "Oh,  for  the  goodness  sake  forget 
it — leave  it  alone !"  But  in  spite  of  herself  the 
memories  rose,  confused  and  warm,  of  certain 
thoughts  and  dreams  she'd  had  about  Joe  Evans  and 
herself.  It  had  all  begun  so  cleanly!  On  the  desk 
close  by  her  side,  she  could  dimly  see  the  envelope 
containing  those  two  tickets  to  the  opera  for  Thurs 
day  night.  She  remembered  to  have  thought  how 
nice  it  would  be  to  go  with  him.  They  both  loved 
music.  She  recalled  those  weird  little  prairie  lulla 
bies,  and  then  what  he  had  told  her  of  the  music 
he'd  heard  with  Gordon  here.  "Yes,  but  he  said 
nothing,"  she  thought,  "of  those  night  rides  in  Gor 
don's  car — with  a  crowd  of  girls  from  the  theatre ! 
I  wonder  how  often  he  went  along?  They  came  back 


154  MILLIONS 

here  for  supper,  no  doubt !  Champagne  and  all  the 
rest  of  it !"  In  an  instant  she  got  the  picture — from 
a  movie  she  had  seen.  Oh,  how  cheap,  how  cheap 
it  was  I 

At  last  she  turned  away  from  the  window,  stiff 
and  aching  with  fatigue. 

"How  I  hate  it  all.  Oh,  I'm  done  with  it!  .  .  . 
I  think  now  that  I  can  sleep." 


She  awakened  later  with  a  start,  and  saw  Miss 
Field,  the  night  nurse,  standing  close  beside  her. 
"Sh-h-h  I" 

"What's  the  matter?    Is  he  worse?" 
"No — I  think  he's  better.     I  wish  you'd  come, 
Miss  Cable." 

"All  right — I'll  be  there  in  just  a  moment!" 
When  she  came  into  the  cool  dim  room,  at  first 
he  seemed  to  her  as  before — a  long  white  form 
upon  the  bed,  lifeless,  shadowy,  unreal.  But  as 
she  drew  near  she  stopped  abruptly.  Yes,  his  face 
was  certainly  changed!  No  longer  grey  and  dead, 
but  alive !  There  was  a  faint  flush  of  fever  there, 
and  she  could  see  that  the  muscles  were  set  in  a 
frown  of  strange  absorption.  In  pain?  Yes,  he 
was  suffering.  Cautiously  she  came  still  closer  and 


MILLIONS  155 

sat  down  at  one  side  of  the  bed.  The  nurse  was  on 
the  other.  Then  in  a  moment  he  opened  his  eyes, 
stared  up  at  the  ceiling — and  Madge  drew  back  in 
her  low  chair,  holding  her  breath  and  hoping,  hop 
ing  that  he  would  not  notice  her.  All  at  once  she 
was  an  intruder  here;  for  in  a  twinkling  the  boy, 
whose  image  for  two  days  and  nights  his  family  had 
been  building,  was  gone,  and  in  his  place  was  the 
stranger  who  had  neglected  them — the  city  man,  the 
millionaire. 

Still  he  did  not  notice  her.  Plainly  he  was  ab 
sorbed  in  a  struggle.  "He's  trying  to  think,"  she 
told  herself.  "'Where  am  I?'  he  is  asking."  A 
faint  smile  came  on  his  lips  and  a  twinkle  into  his 
eyes,  as  though  they  saw  something  incongruous. 

"Don't  be  a  damned  fool,  Joe,"  he  whispered. 
"I'm  too  heavy.  Let  me  down.  Quit  being  a  hero 
and  give  me  a  Camel." 

Madge  grew  rigid,  held  her  breath.  In  a  flash 
she  remembered  what  Joe  had  said  about  helping 
Gordon  when  he  was  wounded;  and  she  had  a  pic 
ture  now  of  Joe  under  fire  staggering  back,  with 
Gordon  over  his  shoulders.  A  lump  rose  in  her 
throat,  and  she  felt  a  rush  of  mingled  pity  and  relief. 
Now  she  knew  that  all  along  she  had  been  hoping 
and  praying  for  this — that  Gordon  might  come  back 


156  MILLIONS 

to  life.  And  yet — it  was  so  different!  She  had 
pictured  him  opening  his  eyes,  clear  and  conscious, 
out  of  danger.  All  would  be  over;  she  would  go 
home.  But  now  she  saw  him  suffering,  weak, 
fevered  and  delirious!  Out  of  danger  yet?  Oh, 
no ! 

She  sat  watching  his  slight  restless  moves — or 
rather,  his  attempts  to  move — as  his  mind  slowly 
groped  its  way  through  the  maze  of  fevered  thoughts 
back  to  his  grim  position  here.  He  turned  his  head 
toward  the  nurse. 

"Did  you  send  that  message?"  he  asked.  His 
voice  was  weak  and  thick  and  low. 

"Yes,  I  telephoned,"  she  replied. 

"What  did  she  say?" 

"She  wasn't  at  home." 

He  seemed  to  wince.    He  shut  his  eyes. 

"What  time  is  it?" 

"Never  mind  now — you  must  try  to  sleep." 

She  put  a  cold  compress  over  his  temples.  He 
relaxed,  and  soon  he  was  asleep.  Miss  Field  went 
to  the  window.  Presently  Madge  joined  her  there, 
and  in  a  low  voice  inquired, 

"Who  was  it  that  he  asked  for?" 

"Miss  O'Brien." 

There  was  a  pause. 


MILLIONS  157 

"And  did  you  telephone  her?" 

"No." 

"Then  why  did  you  tell  him  you  did?"  asked 
Madge,  with  a  slight  note  of  impatience. 

"I  didn't  dare  to  refuse  him,"  was  the  steady  an 
swer.  "By  telling  him  that,  I  got  him  asleep." 

"Yes,  but  he'll  waken,  and  ask  again  1" 

The  nurse  looked  at  her  quietly. 

"Then  that  will  be  for  you  to  decide." 

Madge  frowned.  Miss  Field  went  softly  on,  as 
she  entered  a  note  upon  the  chart: 

"He  asked  if  she  had  been  here  to-night.  I  said, 
no.  'Then  send  her  word,'  he  told  me,  'and  ask 
her  please  to  come  at  once.'  ' 

"I  see,"  said  Madge.  She  wondered  whether 
the  nurse  had  heard  them  keeping  Leonora  out. 
Yes,  she  must  have.  The  voice  of  the  young  ac 
tress  had  risen  so  loud — every  word  she  spoke  must 
have  carried  right  into  this  room!  With  a  sicken 
ing  cold  sensation,  Madge  went  slowly  back  to  the 
bed.  The  words  of  the  nurse  recurred  to  her: 
"Then  that  will  be  for  you  to  decide."  But  she 
could  not  do  it  now.  Her  mind  felt  numb  and 
heavy.  She  sat  there  as  though  under  a  spell,  with 
her  eyes  fixed  on  her  brother's  face. 

He  slept  and  wakened,  engrossed  in  his  pain  and 


158  MILLIONS 

in  his  impatient  efforts  to  think — now  conscious, 
now  delirious. 

"Oh,  tell  'em  to  go  to  the  devil,  Joe — let  'em  sue 
us  if  they  like!  I  guess  we  can  stand  it!"  And  on 
he  went  into  business  details  which  to  her  were 
quite  unintelligible.  But  later  he  asked,  sharp  and 
clear, 

"Has  Mr.  Evans  been  here  to-night?" 

"No,"  said  the  nurse. 

"Why  the  devil  not?  He  lives  here  with  me! 
Understand?  He  must  be  here!  He  wouldn't  run 
off,  at  a  time  like  this!" 

"He  had  to  go  out." 

"I  must  see  him  at  once!" 

"He'll  be  back  soon.  Please  try  to  sleep.  You 
must,  you  know." 

Gradually  he  relaxed  again.  When  he  was 
asleep,  Miss  Field  looked  up  at  Madge  and  said, 

"He  has  done  that  several  times  before.  He 
keeps  asking  for  them  both — Mr.  Evans — Miss 
O'Brien.  It's  hard  to  know  just  what  to  do."  As 
she  looked  away,  Madge  felt  her  thinking,  "He 
didn't  ask  for  any  of  you." 

She  kept  watching  his  pulse  and  his  respiration. 
After  a  time,  she  gave  an  injection;  and  at  the  look 
in  her  face,  Madge  asked, 


MILLIONS  159 

"What  was  that?" 

"A  stimulant." 

"Why?" 

"His  heart  is  getting  pretty  bad." 

"Hadn't  I  better  waken  my  uncle?" 

"No!"  came  the  low,  sharp  reply.  Then,  in  a 
nore  careful  tone:  "No,  Miss  Cable,  there's  no 
iced  of  that." 

Madge  looked  at  her : 

"Or  Doctor  Hoyt?" 

She  saw  Miss  Field's  expression  change. 

"No — not  yet.  But  I  wish  you'd  stay  here,  please, 
f  there  is  any  need,  you  can  go  to  the  'phone.  I 
lon't  want  to  leave  him,"  Miss  Field  replied.  She 
poke  in  a  quiet  tone  of  command.  How  her  man- 
icr  had  changed  since  the  night  before!  As 
Vladge  sank  back  into  her  chair,  the  feeling  of 
>eing  a  stranger  here,  and  .a  nobody,  kept  grow- 

ng. 

Again,  in  one  of  his  restless  spells,  she  heard 
Gordon  ask  the  nurse, 

"Did  you  send  her  word?" 

"Yes,  Mr.  Cable — but  it's  nearly  morning  now." 

"What  if  it  is?  That  won't  make  any  difference 
—not  if  she  really  understands !  Please  go  and  call 
icr  up  again,  and  explain  that  it  is  serious!"  She 


160  MILLIONS 

was  silent  a  moment,  and  he  asked,  'Did  you  hear 
what  I  said?" 

Then,  as  though  to  gain  time,  she  remarked, 

"Your  sister  is  here,  Mr.  Cable." 

Madge  saw  his  features  sharply  contract. 

"Who?" 

"Your  sister." 

He  shut  his  eyes.  In  the  silence,  Madge  sat  with 
her  heart  in  her  mouth.  "Oh,  Gordon,  speak  to 
me,  please!"  she  thought.  But  still  he  said  noth 
ing;  and  now,  by  the  look  on  the  face  of  the  nurse, 
she  guessed  that  the  woman  was  telling  herself,  "So 
that's  how  much  he  cares  for  her.  From  the  way 
she  has  been  acting,  you  might  have  thought  they 
were  close  as  twins."  Once  more  with  a  sickening 
force  she  felt  her  false  position  here — but  now  she 
rebelled  against  it.  "After  all,  I've  been  doing  my 
best !"  she  thought.  "Heaven  knows  I  didn't  plan  all 
this!  They  sent  a  telegram  and  I  came!  Did  I 
want  to?  No!  What  has  he  ever  done  for  me? 
To  put  me  in  a  position  like  this !"  In  a  flash  her 
mind  went  over  the  years  of  her  brother's  long  neg 
lect  of  her,  and  then  came  back  to  his  obvious  indif 
ference  to  her  presence  now.  "To  be  told  I'm  here, 
and  not  even  speak!"  Just  for  a  moment  she  tried 
to  excuse  him.  "He  doesn't  know  I'm  right  by  the 


MILLIONS  l6f 

bed — he  may  think  I'm  asleep  in  the  other  room." 
But  it  would  not  do.  "Even  then,  he  might  have 
said  something — just  one  word  to  let  her  know  that 
he  really  cared  to  have  me  here!"  She  hated  him! 
She  hated  herself — for  all  those  castles-in-air  she  had 
reared,  as  the  great  dream  ship  of  fortune  had  come 
sailing  smoothly  in.  "You  fool!  You  little  ninny! 
To  have  had  your  head  so  completely  turned!"  She 
was  quivering  from  head  to  foot;  but  feeling  the 
tears  come  hot  in  her  eyes,  fiercely  she  controlled 
herself  and  forced  her  feelings  down  and  down. 
Back  came  the  old  mask  of  composure  which  had 
served  so  well  in  the  past — in  all  those  years  when 
she  had  been  a  nobody  back  there  at  home.  Watch 
ing  the  form  on  the  bed,  she  thought,  uAnd  now, 
as  his  life  grows  and  grows,  my  own  life  will  go 
down  again.  Back  to  your  corner,  Madge 
Cable." 

Slowly  a  change  came  over  her  face.  With  a  reso 
lute  breath  she  told  herself,  "Well,  that's  all  right, 
I'll  be  glad  to  go.  But  let  me  tell  you  that  while 
I'm  here  I'm  not  going  to  be  in  this  false  position! 
Something  simply  must  be  done !" 

She  heard  from  the  bed  a  sharp  weak  groan  of 
suffering  and  weariness.  For  a  moment  she  forgot 
herself,  in  a  rush  of  compassion;  but  as  he  subsided 


162  MILLIONS 

again  and  relaxed,  she  came  back  to  her  desperate 
questioning: 

"How  can  I  get  out  of  this?  It's  odious !  What 
can  I  do?  I  can't  leave  him — no,  I've  got  to  stay! 
And  he'll  ask  for  her — again  and  again !  And  I've 
got  to  decide  it !  What  shall  I  do  ?" 

As  the  night  wore  on,  more  and  more  she  felt  the 
weight  of  responsibility  which  she  must  carry  all 
alone.  She  would  not  awaken  her  Uncle  Phil;  for 
without  admitting  it  to  herself  she  knew  that  she 
was  against  him  now,  and  against  her  cousin  and 
her  aunt.  They  were  the  ones  to  blame  for  this! 
"I  wouldn't  have  kept  Leonora  out,  I  wouldn't  have 
pried  into  her  affairs!  I'd  have  left  her  alone — 
left  it  all  alone !  It's  Gordon's  business  and  not 
ours !  I've  said  so  from  the  very  start !"  And  his 
money,  too — (how  she  hated  it  now!) — they  had 
gone  after  it  like  wolves!  And  how  blindly  and 
how  stupidly  they  had  made  it  plain  to  everyone — 
Joe  Evans,  the  surgeon,  the  nurses,  and  even  to  old 
Abe  himself — that  they  wanted  Gordon  to  die! 

All  this  was  swift,  inarticulate,  a  chaos  of  feel 
ings,  nothing  more.  But  out  of  it  came  one  clear  de 
cision.  "I  won't  call  Uncle  Phil,"  she  thought,  "I'll 
get  Doctor  Hoyt  instead — give  him  full  responsi 
bility  here!" 


MILLIONS  163 

And  so,  when  about  five  o'clock  the  nurse  gave 
another  injection,  Madge  rose  quickly  and  said  to 
her, 

"I  think  I'll  call  the  doctor  now." 

"What?     Which  one?" 

With  a  look  of  impatience,  Madge  replied, 

"Hoyt,  of  course.     He's  in  charge  of  this  case." 

"Well,  perhaps  that  is  best,"  said  the  other. 
Madge  went  to  the  dopr,  but  then  turned  back. 

"No — I  think  you'd  better  speak  to  him  yourself. 
In  case  he  cannot  come  at  once,  there  are  details 
he'll  want  to  know — and  you  can  tell  him.  I'll  stay 
here." 

And  as  soon  as  the  nurse  was  out  of  the  room, 
Madge  spoke  to  her  brother.  "I'm  not  going  to  sit 
here,"  she  thought,  "and  not  have  him  give  any  sign 
that  he  wants  me !"  And  so,  leaning  forward  where 
he  could  see  her,  she  said  to  him  in  her  low  clear 
voice, 

"I'm  here,  Gordon — Madge — your  sister."  She 
waited  a  moment,  and  then  went  on:  "Mr.  Evans 
sent  for  me  and  I  came.  It  has  been  a  hard  pull, 
hasn't  it,  dear — but  you're  so  much  better  now." 

"Am  I?"  he  asked,  huskily.  His  feverish  eyes 
turned  to  her  face,  and  he  frowned  as  though  try 
ing  to  make  her  look  real. 


1 64  MILLIONS 

"Yes — much  better,"  she  went  on.  "And  if  you'll 
only  do  as  I  say,  and  rest,  my  dear,  we'll  soon  have 
you  strong  enough  so  that  you  can  see  your  friends." 

"Friends — friends?'1  He  was  silent  a  while,  ap 
parently  trying  to  clear  his  thoughts.  Then  he 
opened  his  eyes  and  looked  at  her  with  a  quick  ap 
pealing  smile  which  sent  her  hostility  flying  away. 
"Thanks  for  coming,  Madgy.  You're  a  brick."  He 
reached  out  his  hand.  "It's  been  a  long  time — 
hasn't  it?" 

"YeS " 

"I'm  sorry!    And  I'm  glad  you're  here !" 

She  gave  his  hand  a  little  squeeze,  and  answered 
softly,  "So  am  I.  And  I'll  be  here  just  as  long  as 
you  need  me."  She  smiled  at  him.  "But  it  won't 
be  long.  You'll  be  well  soon  and  I  can  go  home." 
In  spite  of  herself,  she  added  that;  but  he  did  not 
seem  to  notice  it.  For  a  time  there  was  silence. 
Then  he  asked, 

"Isn't  Joe  Evans  staying  here?" 

"No — there  wasn't  room,  you  see.  But  he  comes 
often,"  she  replied.  Again  she  saw  his  face  con 
tract. 

"I've  got  to  see  him  pretty  soon.  There  are  some 
things  he  ought  to  know."  With  a  humorous  twitch 
of  his  lips,  he  added,  "Poor  devil,  he  must  be 


MILLIONS  165 

sweating  blood.  Tight  place  in  our  business. 
See?" 

"Then  rest,"  she  said,  "so  that  you  can  talk  to 
him  when  he  comes." 

"Doctors  think  I  will  pull  through?" 

Again  she  pressed  his  hand  and  said, 

"Of  course  they  do!    We  all  do!" 

"All  do?  Who  do  you  mean?"  he  asked,  open 
ing  again  his  eyes. 

"Now  he's  thinking  of  Leonora,"  thought  Madge. 
Aloud  she  said,  "Oh,  Mr.  Evans,  the  nurses  and  I." 
She  did  not  speak  of  his  relatives;  for  if  he  knew 
that  they  were  here,  it  would  give  him  a  scare,  she 
thought.  Presently  she  heard  him  ask, 

"Hasn't  anyone  else  been  here?" 

"Yes— a  Miss  O'Brien,"  she  said. 

He  waited  a  bit,  and  then  inquired, 

"Often?" 

"Yes T' 

Again  a  pause. 

"When  did  she  happen  to  be  here  last?"  His  at 
tempt  at  indifference  was  pathetic. 

"Not  long  ago — but  you  were  unconscious." 

"Oh — I  see."  Once  more  there  was  silence.  "And 
Joe?"  he  asked. 

"He'll  be  here  soon.    I  told  you  that — and  you've 


l66  MILLIONS 

talked  enough.     Now  you  must  try  to  sleep,"  she 

said. 

"All  right,  Madgy— I'll  do  my  best." 

He  smiled.    His  hand  was  still  in  hers,  and  soon 

again  he  was  sleeping.. 

Long  before  this,  she  had  heard  the  nurse  come 

back  and  stop,  listening,  at  the  door.    And  she  was 

glad  that  the  woman  had  heard  Gordon  speak  to 

her  like  a  sister.    She  felt  better  about  her  position 

here.     It  was*  not  quite  so  odious. 

3 

"The  doctor  doesn't  seem  to  think  the  danger  is 
immediate,"  said  Miss  Field,  as  she  came  in.  uHe 
will  be  here  about  seven.  Hadn't  you  better  get 
some  rest?  It  may  be  a  hard  day  for  you." 

"Thanks — I  will,"  Madge  answered. 

She  went  to  her  room  and  got  back  into  bed;  she 
felt  so  very  weary  that  nothing  on  earth  could  trou 
ble  her.  "He's  cpnscious  now.  That  changes 
things.  After  all,  it's  his  affair,  not  mine.  If  he 
wants  that  girl,  he  shall  have  her,"  she  thought.  And 
very  soon  she  was  sound  asleep. 

But  when  roused  at  seven  by  the  nurse,  awake 
in  an  instant  and  clear  eyed,  she  asked, 

"Is  the  doctor  here?" 


MILLIONS  167 

"Yes,  Miss  Cable." 

'Til  be  right  in." 

When  she  entered  Gordon's  room,  the  surgeon 
was  examining  him.  Intently  watching  Gordon's 
face,  he  was  gently  moving  and  feeling  his  limbs, 
looking  for  signs  of  paralysis.  But  there  were  none. 
He  turned  with  a  smile.  He  and  Madge  had  got  on 
well  from  the  start. 

"Your  brother  is  coming  on  finely  now,"  he  said, 
when  they  were  in  the  hall.  "I'm  glad  we  didn't 
operate." 

The  relief  was  plain  in  Madge's  eyes. 

"You  mean  he's  out  of  danger?" 

"No,  I  can't  say  that,"  he  replied.  "He  has 
had  a  severe  concussion — he's  very  weak  and  in 
terrible  pain — and  that  will  make  him  weaker 
still." 

"Oh,  can't  you  spare  him  that?"  she  asked. 

"We'll  do  what  we  can,  Miss  Cable — but  with  his 
heart  action  as  it  is,  depressants  might  be  dangerous. 
His  heart  is  none  too  strong  at  best.  He  must  have 
been  living  pretty  hard.  However,  I  think  we'll 
get  him  through.  If  he  lives  another  twenty-four 
hours,  I  guess  we  can  call  him  out  of  the  woods. 
What  he  needs  above  everything  else  is  rest  and 
quiet,"  the  surgeon  said. 


l68  MILLIONS 

When  he  had  left,  she  turned  back  from  the  door 
and  met  her  uncle,  in  shirt  and  trousers. 

"Who  was  that?"  he  asked  her. 

"Doctor  Hoyt." 

" Why  didn't  you  call  me?" 

"I  hadn't  time.  He  was  only  here  a  few  min^ 
utes,"  she  said.  "Gordon  is  better,  Uncle  Phil." 

"What?"  he  asked,  in  a  startled  tone. 

She  told  him  all  she  could  remember  of  the  de 
tails  she  had  learned  from  the  surgeon. 

"I'll  see  him  myself,"  her  uncle  said. 

"Yes,  I  wish  you  would,"  she  replied. 

He  went  into  the  sick  room;  and  when  he  came 
out,  his  expression  was  queer. 

"He's  not  out  of  danger  yet,"  he  remarked,  "but 
there's  no  doubt  about  the  fact  that  his  chances  are 
immensely  improved.  Thank  God,  I  was  here  to 
keep  that  surgeon  from  breaking  into  his  head  with 
a  chisel." 

"Yes,"  said  Madge.  Watching  her  uncle's  face, 
she  was  thinking,  "No,  he's  not  sorry  that  Gordon 
is  better — but  it  changes  things,  that's  all.  He's  got 
to  adjust  all  his  thinking.  That  hospital  is  tumbling 
down."  Forgetting  her  own  fine  visions,  she  felt 
compassion  for  him  now.  "And  poor  Aunt  Abby — 
that  lovely  old  house,  and  the  chance  to  marry  off 


MILLIONS  169 

the  girls.  And  Ray,  and  his  auto  factory.  Well, 
they'll  have  to  get  used  to  it." 

Rather  grimly  she  watched  them  take  the  news; 
and  breakfasting  with  them  she  recalled  the  dinner 
last  night,  the  dinner  of  dreams.  It  was  different 
now.  On  Ray,  glum  and  silent,  she  spent  not  a 
thought;  but  she  pitied  his  mother.  Aunt  Abby 
looked  so  troubled  and  anxious,  plainly  not  know 
ing  where  she  stood.  She  could  barely  touch  her 
breakfast. 

"Oh,  I  hope  he  does  get  through!  I've  been 
praying  for  him  so  hard !"  she  said. 

And  Madge  thought,  "Yes,  and  she  means  it, 
too.  And  she  has  prayed — all  the  harder  because 
she  felt  guilty  over  those  dreams.  And  now  what 
a  difference — just  think!  Everything  suddenly 
melting  away!"  Her  aunt  all  at  once  looked  old 
and  haggard.  "It's  cruel — it's  hard — it's  terri 
ble!" 

But  soon  her  thoughts  took  another  turn,  for  she 
began  to  notice  a  change  in  their  attitude  toward  her 
self.  Already  they  were  beginning  to  put  her  back 
in  her  old  position,  as  a  person  who  didn't  count. 
She  smiled  at  that.  "I  wish  I  were  back,"  she  told 
herself.  "But  I'm  not.  I'm  still  the  one  to  decide." 
She  remembered  Leonora;  and  as  she  began  to 


170  MILLIONS 

speak  of  her,  at  once  she  could  feel  all  three  of 
them  rise  in  opposition  again;  and  their  manner  to 
Madge  was  altered  now.  The  deference  of  the 
night  before  was  gone ;  they  tried  to  snub  her.  When 
she  said,  "It's  hard  to  know  what  is  best,"  her  uncle 
replied,  in  the  tone  he  had  used  with  her  when  she 
was  a  nobody, 

"Now,  look  here — hadn't  you  better  leave  this  to 
me?  I  was  right  about  that  operation.  Suppose 
you  trust  me  once  again?  Gordon  is  half  delirious 
— he's  not  himself — he  don't  know  what  he  wants. 
There  is  no  need  whatever  to  let  that  young  actress 
into  the  room." 

"Yes,  but  suppose  he  asks  for  her?" 

"I  thought  we  had  decided  all  this!"  her  aunt 
cut  in. 

Madge  looked  at  Mrs.  Dwight  and  said, 

"When  I  did  decide,  Aunt  Abby,  Gordon  was 
still  unconscious.  I  had  no  way  of  knowing  his 
wishes." 

"You  have  none  now!"  said  her  cousin  Ray. 
"The  man's  half  dippy  with  pain  in  his  head !  How 
can  he  know  what  he  really  wants?" 

"That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it,  Ray,"  Madge 
retorted  promptly.  "The  doctor  says  he  must  have 
rest.  And  if  he  keeps  asking  for  her — worried  be- 


MILLIONS  171 

cause  she  doesn't  come — up  will  go  his  temperature 
and  he'll  get  worse.  He  may  even  die  I" 

She  shot  that  out  in  a  challenging  tone.  Ray's 
mother  instantly  caught  it  and  said, 

"We  don't  want  that!     Do  we,  Madge?" 

"No,  Auntie,"  Madge  answered,  dropping  her 
voice  and  feeling  wretched  all  at  once.  And  seeing 
the  change,  her  Uncle  Phil  was  prompt  to  take  ad 
vantage.  He  said, 

"And  to  keep  him  alive,  I  ask  again  if  you  won't 
trust  my  judgment,  Madge?" 

She  threw  a  tortured  look  at  him. 

"What  is  your  judgment,  Uncle  Phil?" 

"That  if  Gordon  is  suffering  so  much,  and  worry 
ing — we  quiet  him.  It's  simple  enough." 

"Drug  him,  you  mean.  But  when  I  asked  Doc 
tor  Hoyt  about  that  he  said  it  might  be  dangerous. 
We  might  even  kill  him  if  we  did  that!" 

"That's  true — we  might,"  was  his  steady  reply. 
"He  is  still  in  a  very  critical  state — just  balancing 
between  life  and  death."  Madge  heard  her  aunt 
draw  a  sharp  little  breath.  "But  the  risk  we  take 
by  a  drug,"  he  went  on,  "is  not  half  so  great  as 
that  we'll  run  if  we  let  this  young  actress  into  the 
room,  and  she  acts  as  we  have  seen  her  act  every 
time  she  has  been  here." 


172  MILLIONS 

"But  she  wouldn't !"  Madge  exclaimed. 

"I  disagree  with  you,"  he  rejoined. 

uSo  do  I !"  said  Ray. 

"And  I !"  said  his  mother. 

Madge  threw  a  hard  glance  at  them  all.  How 
their  whole  tone  to  her  had  changed! 

Her  uncle  went  on: 

"There's  no  surprise  in  this  to  me.  I  told  you 
he'd  probably  ask  for  her,  if  he  came  to  his  senses. 
Sick  men  often  ask  for  things  which  are  bad  for 
them — whiskey — cigarettes.  He's  asking  for  his 
mistress  now.  We  might  as  well  call  her  what  she 
is — face  facts  as  they  are " 

"All  right,  let's  do  it!"  Madge  rejoined.  "What 
facts  have  you  got  to  make  you  sure  she  won't  be  per 
fectly  quiet  in  there?  What  possible  reason  could 
she  have  for  raising  a  rumpus  as  you  suggest?" 

"His  money!"  Ray  replied. 

Madge  turned  an  angry  look  on  him. 

"Oh,  I've  heard  enough  of  that!  We  know  he 
did  ask  her  to  marry  him  once,  and  that  she  refused! 
Does  that  look  as  though  she  were  after  his  money?" 

"What  reason  did  Mr.  Evans  give  for  her  re 
fusal?"  asked  Uncle  Phil.  "The  glamor  and  tinsel 
of  her  career.  She  didn't  care  for  Gordon  enough 
to  give  up  the  theatre !"  A  sniff  from  Aunt  Abby. 


MILLIONS  173 

"But  she  wouldn't  have  to  now,"  he  continued, 
smoothly.  "Once  we  let  her  into  that  room,  she 
might  very  easily  work  him  up  to  make  the  state 
ment  which  she  needs.  The  excitement  of  it  would 
kill  him,  no  doubt,  but  it  wouldn't  kill  his  bank  ac 
count.  And  so  the  young  lady,  on  his  death,  could 
have  her  career  and  the  money,  too." 

"I  don't  believe  it !  It's  too  absurd !"  Madge  said, 
in  a  quivering  voice.  "How  crazy  we  all  are,"  she 
thought,  "to  be  talking  and  thinking  and  feeling  like 
this!  What  do  we  know  of  such  affairs?"  Aloud 
she  asked,  "You  mean  to  say  she'd  go  into  his  room 
with  a  cold-blooded  scheme  like  that?" 

"Not  at  all,"  he  answered  promptly.  "There's 
nothing  cold-blooded  about  this  young  woman — she's 
warm,  she's  a  bundle  of  nerves  and  emotions !  She 
wouldn't  admit  any  plan  to  herself,  she  would  just 
let  her  feelings  rise — what  she  calls  her  love  for  him. 
And  so  she'd  make  a  scene  of  it — just  as  we've  seen 
her  do  in  this  room,  every  time  we  let  her  in.  And 
Nature  would  soon  do  the  rest — for  Gordon's  life 
hangs  by  a  thread."  He  paused  for  a  moment  and 
then  said,  with  a  recurrence  in  his  voice  of  the  old 
authoritative  note,  "Now,  Madge,  you  had  better 
leave  this  to  me.  If  Gordon  asks  for  this  woman 
again,  or  shows  any  signs  of  worry  or  pain,  the  only 


174  MILLIONS 

kind  and  sensible  course  is  to  give  him  something  to 
quiet  him." 

"I  can't,  Uncle  Phil  I  Not  without  Doctor  Hoyt  I" 

He  gave  her  an  injured  look  and  said, 

"Very  well — if  you  feel  that  way." 

Aunt  Abby  put  in  stiffly, 

"I'm  sorry,  Madge,  that  you  don't  feel  you  can 
leave  this  in  your  uncle's  hands !" 

"Never  mind  that  part  of  it,"  he  said.  "Madge 
is  trying  to  do  her  best.  And  so  long  as  this  fellow 
Hoyt  is  in  charge,  I  don't  want  to  interfere — unless 
it  is  absolutely  essential.  So  long  as  we  keep  this 
woman  out,  and  Gordon  doesn't  worry  too  much, 
I  think  he's  safe.  I'll  keep  a  close  watch  on  him, 
of  course " 

"Uncle  Phil,"  Madge  interrupted,  "did  Gordon 
recognize  you  when  you  were  in  the  room  just  now?" 

"No,  my  dear,  he  was  asleep." 

"Then  I  think  it  might  be  a  great  mistake  to  let 
him  know  you're  here,"  she  said,  "or  Aunt 
Abby  or  Ray!  You'd  better  all  keep  out  of  the 
room !" 

"Well !"  exclaimed  Aunt  Abby. 

"Why?"  inquired  Uncle  Phil. 

"Don't  you  see?  If  he  knows  that  the  whole 
family  have  come  way  down  from  Halesburg,  of 


MILLIONS  175 

course  he'll  think  he's  going  to  die!     He  mustn't 
learn  it !"  she  declared. 

"Well,  there  may  be  something  in  that,"  Doctor 
Cable  answered.  "And  whenever  I  am  in  the  room 
I'll  take  care  that  he  doesn't  notice  me.  I've  changed 
a  great  deal  in  the  last  few  years,  and  in  his  present 
feverish  state  I  hardly  think  he'd  give  me  a  thought. 
But  I'll  keep  out  of  sight,  to  make  doubly  sure." 

4 

Miss  Cochran,  the  pretty  young  day  nurse,  ap 
peared  then  in  the  doorway,  with  an  inquisitive  look 
in  her  face. 

"What  is  it?"  Madge  asked,  with  a  gleam  of  an 
noyance. 

"Your  brother  wants  to  see  you,  Miss  Cable." 

"Very  well,  I'll  come  at  once." 

When  she  came  again  into  Gordon's  room,  she 
saw  his  gaze  eagerly  fixed  on  the  door.  He  looked 
feverish,  and  in  his  voice  she  caught  a  note  of  re 
pressed  excitement. 

"Hello,  Madgy.  I  feel  a  lot  better  now,"  he  said, 
as  she  came  to  the  bedside. 

"That's  good." 

As  she  took  his  hand,  her  brother  gave  her  a  queer 
little  look,  awkward,  friendly,  questioning,  as  though 


176  MILLIONS 

he  were  asking,  "And  how  do  you  feel?  What  have 
you  been  doing,  all  these  years?  What  a  damn 
shame  I've  neglected  you  so!  Let's  try  to  get  to 
gether,  Sis."  But  it  passed;  and  instead,  he  asked 
her, 

"Did  you  send  that  message  ?" 

She  waited  a  moment. 

"To  whom?"  she  inquired.     He  hesitated. 

"To  Evans,"  he  said.    "I  can't  see  why  he  doesn't 


come." 


"Why  Gordon,  he  knows  you're  doing  well,"  she 
reassured  him,  quietly.  "And  he's  horribly  busy  at 
the  office.  He  told  me  so." 

"That's  just  it!  The  poor  devil  must  be  half 
crazy  down  there !  We've  got  some  law-suits  on  our 
hands,  and  there  are  some  things  he's  got  to  know !" 
With  an  effort  to  steady  his  voice,  and  a  humorous 
little  smile,  he  said,  "I  went  out  of  that  automobile 
so  fast  I  didn't  have  time  to  tell  him,  you  see.  And 
if  I  shouldn't  happen  to  pull  through " 

"You're  going  to,  Gordon!" 

He  shut  his  eyes. 

"It's  worse  than  you  know,"  he  muttered.  She 
took  his  hand,  he  held  it  tight — then  let  it  go,  and 
lay  there. 

"Anyone  else  been  here?"  he  asked. 


MILLIONS  177 

Again  there  was  a  silence. 

"And  have  you  telephoned  to  Joe?" 

"Not  yet " 

"Then  do  it — please — at  once !  If  he  knew  that 
I  was  conscious,  he'd  be  here  on  the  double  quick!" 

"All  right,  I'll  get  him  here,"  she  said.  "Now 
try  to  rest  before  he  comes." 

He  smiled  at  her,  while  he  winced  with  pain. 

"That  isn't  easy,"  he  replied. 

5 

As  Madge  went  out  to  the  telephone,  she  heard 
a  key  in  the  entrance  door.  "That's  Joe  now,"  she 
told  herself.  She  went  and  met  him  coming  in. 

"Gordon  is  better,"  she  said,  at  once.  "He  has 
come  to,  and  he  wants  to  see  you." 

At  the  look  of  immense  relief  which  instantly 
swept  over  his  face,  she  forgot  her  cold  hostility  to 
ward  him  on  the  night  before.  In  the  living  room, 
where  he  stopped  to  speak  with  her  relatives,  she 
felt  the  contrast  between  his  relief  and  the  air  of 
troubled  tension  on  the  faces  of  the  other  three. 
And  she  thought,  "Thank  God,  here's  somebody 
who  is  just  honestly  happy  about  it !"  She  followed 
him  into  Gordon's  room;  and  as  he  stood  by  the 


178  MILLIONS 

bed,  tall  and  clumsy,  looking  down,  she  heard  him 
say  in  his  soft  Southern  voice, 

"Hello,  Buddy,  how  goes  it?     Better  now?" 

"Hello,  Joe."  Out  came  Gordon's  hand.  At  the 
look  and  the  smile  that  went  with  it,  she  felt  a  con 
striction  of  her  throat.  "Are  we  alone?"  she 
heard  Gordon  ask,  and  she  drew  back  out  of  the 
room. 

Five  minutes  later,  she  looked  in  again.  Both 
of  them  were  smiling  still,  engrossed  in  each  other; 
and  in  a  low  voice  her  brother  was  talking  rapidly. 
She  caught  the  words:  "You  tell  the  old  pirate 
that  if  his  bank  won't  carry  us  over  into  next 

week "  And  with  relief  she  told  herself,  "So  it 

isn't  only  Leonora !"  Aloud  she  said, 

"I'm  afraid  you've  talked  all  you  ought  to, 
now " 

"Oh,  no,  we  haven't,  we've  just  begun!"  her 
brother  replied.  But  his  partner  said, 

"I  reckon  you're  right,  Miss  Cable." 

And  a  little  later  he  came  with  her  into  the  hall, 
shutting  the  door  behind  him.  There  at  once  his 
manner  changed. 

"Look  here,"  he  said,  in  an  anxious  tone,  "I  reckon 
he's  right  worried  because  Miss  O'Brien  hasn't  been 
here.  He  has  sent  for  her  twice,  he  tells  me."  And 


MILLIONS  179 

when  Madge  did  not  reply  at  once,  he  asked,  "Are 
you  sure  you-all  are  doing  the  right  thing  to  shut 
her  out?" 

The  thought  leaped  into  Madge's  mind:  "He 
knows  about  last  night — of  course !  She  must  have 
gone  and  told  him !"  Madge  could  see  her  doing 
it — routing  him  out  of  bed,  of  course,  though  it  was 
after  midnight!  Intimate  pals!  Back  with  a  rush 
came  the  picture  of  wild  parties  in  these  rooms. 
And  her  voice  had  a  caustic  note,  as  she  said, 

"I'm  certainly  trying  to  do  the  right  thing " 

"I  know  you  are "  still  anxiously.  "But  you 

don't  know  Gordon  as  I  do — or  Leonora  either." 

"No,  I  don't  suppose  I  do !  But  I've  learned  a 
few  things  since  you  were  here  which  make  quite 
a  difference!"  She  waited  just  an  instant.  "She 
told  you  about  that,  I  presume — last  night,  I 
mean " 

uxr      >» 

"You  didn't  tell  me  she  was  that  kind!" 
"No— I  didn't  tell  you."    He  paused.    "But  when 

you  speak  of  her  as  'that  kind,'  you  show  you  jest 

don't  understand." 

"Don't  I?"   she   retorted.     And  to  herself  she 

added,  "Now  he's  wondering  how  he  can  bring  me 

around.    He's  looking  at  me  as  a  little  old  maid  from 


180  MILLIONS 

a  small  town,  with  narrow,  stiff,  old-fashioned  views 
about  such  things!"  Aloud  she  said, 

"I  guess  she  didn't  tell  you  how  she  acted  here 
last  night !" 

"Oh,  I  don't  need  to  be  told  all  that — I  know 
Leonora  pretty  well !" 

As  he  spoke,  she  caught  an  unmistakable  gleam 
of  dislike  in  Joe's  brown  eyes;  and  instantly  there 
came  a  change  in  the  whole  expression  of  Madge's 
face.  She  liked  him  so  much  better  now ! 

"But  I  don't  jest  see,"  he  continued,  "what  dif 
ference  it  makes  to  us  what  kind  of  a  woman  she  may 
be — or  what  she  does  or  how  she  acts.  All  we've 
got  to  think  of  is  how  we  can  pull  Gordon  through ! 
This  may  be  a  matter  of  saving  his  life !" 

She  looked  up.    Her  face  was  quivering. 

"Yes,  and  I  want  to  save  his  life !  I'm  doing  the 
best  that  I  know  how !" 

"I  know  you  are — I  know  you  are !" 

"He's  got  to  be  let  alone — to  rest!" 

"But  he  won't — he'll  worry  till  she  comes !" 

"I  know  all  that,"  retorted  Madge,  "but  if  I 
let  her  in,  how  can  I  tell  she  won't  launch  into  one 
of  those  scenes  of  hers  and  stir  him  all  up?" 

"She  won't  do  that!" 

"How  do  you  know?    And  even  if  she  doesn't," 


MILLIONS  l8l 

said  Madge,  "the  mere  feeling  of  her  hand  in  his 
may  have  the  same  effect  on  him!  There  must  be 
certain  memories  that " 

She  broke  off  sharply,  reddening;  for  she  thought 
she  caught  in  his  eyes  a  flash  of  amused  impatience, 
and  that  he  was  putting  her  down  again  as  a  little  old 
maid  from  the  country.  In  a  voice  of  cold  dislike, 
she  said, 

"I  think  you'll  have  to  leave  this  to  me.  I'm  not 
going  to  let  her  in — not  yet — not  if  I  can  help  my 
self.  But  I'll  watch  my  brother  closely;  and  if  there 
is  any  change  for  the  worse,  I'll  let  you  know." 


When  Joe  had  gone,  and  Madge  came  into  the 
living  room,  her  Uncle  Phil  said  approvingly, 

"We  couldn't  well  help  hearing  what  young  Evans 
said  to  you,  Madge.  I'm  very  glad  you  kept  your 
head." 

She  frowned  at  that. 

"But  he  may  be  right.  We  may  have  to  let  her 
come,"  she  replied. 

"Not  if  you  keep  your  head,  my  dear,  and  keep 
seeing  clearly  what's  happening  here." 

"What  is  happening,  Uncle  Phil?" 

Disregarding  her  impatience,  he  said, 


182  MILLIONS 

"To  begin  with,  this  young  lady  is  getting  poor 
Evans  right  under  her  thumb." 

"She  isn't!    He  dislikes  her!" 

"Does  he?  Still,  he's  playing  her  game.  But 
you  ask  me  what  is  happening.  The  answer  is  quite 
plain,  I  think.  Gordon  needs  above  everything  else 
rest  and  quiet.  Is  he  getting  that?  First,  the  nurse 
lets  him  talk  and  excite  himself,  and  she  runs  out  for 
him  to  the  'phone.  Then  you  come  in,  and  the  sur 
geon  comes,  and  then  Evans — all  talking,  all  stirring 
him  up — when  what  the  boy  needs  is  rest  and  sleep. 
And  one  good  shot  in  his  left  arm " 

"I  tell  you  Doctor  Hoyt  is  against  it!" 

"And  I  tell  you,  Madge,"  Aunt  Abby  cut  in,  "that 
I  think  you  are  making  a  grave  mistake  in  not  trust 
ing  to  your  Uncle  Phil  and  letting  this  New  York 
surgeon  go !  What  does  he  care  for  Gordon?  What 
do  the  nurses  care — either  one?  All  intruders — 
all  outsiders !  Yet  you  let  them  all  into  the  room — 
and  then  you  let  his  partner  in,  to  worry  him  with 
business — while  you  are  keeping  his  own  flesh  and 
blood,  who  really  do  care  for  the  poor  boy,  sitting 
out  here  like  so  many  strangers!" 

"I'm  sorry,  Aunt  Abby !    I  gave  you  my  reasons !" 

Her  aunt  paid  no  attention  to  that.  Her  voice 
was  loud,  unnatural: 


MILLIONS  183 

"And  under  the  pressure  they're  bringing  to  bear, 
you  are  even  considering  letting  poor  Gordon,  if  he 
dies,  go  straight  up  to  his  Maker  out  of  a  fancy 
woman's  arms!  What  we  ought  to  have  here  is 
a  minister — as  I've  said  more  than  once  be 
fore  !" 

aYes,"  said  Madge,  "I  know  you  have!  Have 
you  found  one  yet,  if  we  need  him,  Aunt  Abby?" 

"I  have — I  can  get  him  on  the  'phone !" 

Madge  shivered.  She  was  just  on  the  point  of 
crying  out,  "And  the  undertaker,  too!  Have  you 
got  him  ready  on  the  'phone?"  But  she  checked 
herself  with  an  effort.  "No,"  she  thought,  "we're 
not  murdering  Gordon.  Every  single  one  of  us  is  do 
ing  what  he  thinks  is  right  Oh,  it's  funny — funny !" 
And  looking  at  her  aunt,  she  thought,  "What  a  strain 
it  is.  How  feeble  she  is.  She'll  have  a  sick  turn 
after  this." 

"Aunt  Abby,"  she  said,  quietly,  "we're  all  of  us 
doing  the  best  we  can.  I'm  not  going  to  let  that 
woman  in — not  yet,  at  least — and  I'm  not  disregard 
ing  your  judgment  here." 

"But  you  are  keeping  me  out  of  his  room !" 

"I  won't  do  that.  Come  in  if  you  like,"  Madge 
said,  in  a  voice  of  weariness. 

Again  she  could  feel  them  getting  their  way,  over- 


184  MILLIONS 

ruling  her  and  forcing  her  back  into  her  old  place 
in  the  family. 

7 

A  few  minutes  later,  with  her  aunt  and  uncle,  she 
stood  by  her  brother's  bed. 

"Gordon,"  she  said,  as  he  opened  his  eyes,  uhere 
are  Aunt  Abby  and  Uncle  Phil.  They  both  just  hap 
pened  to  be  in  town " 

"And  we  heard  of  your  accident,  my  boy,"  con 
tinued  smoothly  Uncle  Phil.  "So  we  came  right 
around  to  see  what  we  could  do." 

"That's  good  of  you,"  he  answered,  in  a  low 
voice,  tense  and  strained.  "Glad  to  see  you,  Uncle 
Phil — Aunt  Abby,  too." 

He  smiled  at  them ;  but  a  queer  expression  had 
come  in  his  eyes — half  frightened.  Aunt  Abby  no 
ticed  it;  and  at  once,  in  a  motherly  way,  she  leaned 
over  and  took  his  hand. 

"I've  been  praying  for  you,  Gordon  dear.  Thank 
God,  you're  so  much  better  now  1" 

"Ami?    I  don't  feel  so !" 

"Oh  yes,  you  are !"  And  she  patted  his  hand. 
"I've  been  thinking,  Gordon,  of  the  time  I  nursed 
you  as  a  little  boy — and  wishing  I  could  do  it  now. 
All  last  night,  while  I  lay  awake  out  there  in  the 
other  room " 


MILLIONS  185 

"Oh.  You  were  both  here  all  night?"  he  cut  in 
softly.  She  gave  a  slight  start. 

"Yes,  you  were  pretty  sick,  you  know.  But  I 
guess  you  don't  need  us  any  more.  All  you  need  is  to 
rest,  my  dear,  keep  perfectly  quiet  and  get  your 
strength.  So  we  mustn't  stay  here  talking." 

"Thank  you,  Aunt  Abby,  I'm  glad  you  came.  But 
it's  funny  that  you  and  Uncle  Phil  both  happened 
to  be  in  the  city  just  now." 

"Yes,  wasn'jt  it  lucky?"  she  replied. 

As  they  went  out,  Madge  glanced  back  and  saw 
that  frightened  look  in  his  eyes. 

"He  wasn't  fooled  for  a  minute!"  she  thought. 
"He  knows  they  sent  for  the  family  I" 


CHAPTER  VII 

LUNCHEON  was  ready.  As  they  sat  down — » 
Madge,  Uncle  Phil,  Aunt  Abby  and  Ray — they  were 
silent.  Then  Aunt  Abby  asked, 

"Isn't  that  young  nurse  coming  to  lunch?" 

"No,  she's  afraid  to  leave  him  now.  I'll  take 
something  in  to  her,"  Madge  replied.  And  the  silence 
settled  as  before,  broken  only  by  brief  remarks. 
Madge  barely  ate.  She  was  torn  between  the  appeal 
of  her  brother  and  his  friend  and  the  grim  vigilant 
opposition  of  the  three  people  sitting  here. 

"Suppose  I  do  let  her  come,"  she  thought,  "and 
she  does  excite  him  too  much,  and  he  dies — and 
somehow,  by  some  tricks  in  the  law,  she  gets  his 
money  and  robs  us  all?  The  family  would  call  me 
then  a  little  sentimental  dupe,  a  murderess!  And 
they  would  be  right!"  She  compressed  her  lips. 
How  she  had  grown  to  hate  this  place !  Oh,  to  get 
away  from  it — home ! 

All  at  once  she  noticed  on  the  face  of  old  black 
Abe,  who  was  serving  her  aunt,  such  a  ludicrous 
look  of  anxiety,  that  she  almost  laughed  aloud.  She 

read  his  thoughts,  for  in  the  kitchen  she  had  found 

186 


MILLIONS  187 

signs  in  plenty  that  Abe  had  been  grafting  busily  for 
months  and  months  on  food  supplies.  And  his  anx 
ious  look  was  not  only  for  Gordon  but  for  his  own 
easy  berth  and  the  pickings  here. 

Suddenly,  as  she  scanned  his  face,  she  heard  her 
self  describing  it  to  Amanda  Berry  back  at  home,  in 
their  small  flat  with  the  varnished  stairs,  and  then 
going  on  and  on  and  on,  giving  Amanda  every  detail 
of  this  whole  queer  week,  from  start  to  finish.  Oh, 
what  a  talk  it  was  going  to  be !  The  thought  of  it 
broke  her  tension.  Somehow  or  other  she  felt  sure 
that  the  whole  affair  would  soon  be  like  a  dream  left 
far  behind  her.  uThe  sooner,  the  better,"  she  told 
herself.  "It  has  never  seemed  real — not  once  it 
hasn't !"  She  looked  at  her  aunt,  and  pitied  her.  "It 
has  taken  you,  too,  and  twisted  you  all  out  of  your 
natural  self,"  she  thought.  In  a  friendly  tone  she 
remarked, 

"It  has  seemed  a  long  time,  hasn't  it,  dear?" 

"Yes,  very  long,"  was  the  low  reply. 

Then  Ray  spoke  up,  in  an  attempt  to  make  things 
nice  and  natural. 

"Let's  see,  Mother — when  did  you  come?"  He 
began  to  reckon  up  the  days.  "Look  here,"  he  cried, 
with  a  quick  smile.  "I'll  bet  you've  all  forgotten 
one  thing.  To-morrow  is  Thanksgiving  Day." 


188  MILLIONS 

"Thanksgiving  Day  I"  For  an  instant,  his  mother 
and  all  the  rest  of  them  seemed  to  stiffen  in  their 
chairs.  Then  in  a  shaking  voice  she  cried,  "Let  us 
hope  he'll  be  alive !" 

The  next  moment  she  rose  and  went  to  her  room; 
and  Ray  gave  a  look  at  the  others  that  said, 

"Well,  this  bunch  is  getting  to  be  a  little  too  queer 
and  touchy  for  me !" 


When  Madge  took  some  luncheon  in  to  the  nurse, 
Miss  Cochran  made  a  sign  to  her  that  her  brother 
was  awake.  He  lay  staring  up  at  the  ceiling,  en 
grossed.  When  he  caught  sight  of  her,  he  smiled. 

"Come  here,  Madge,  pretty  close,"  he  said,  "so 
that  I  can  talk  to  you." 

With  alarm  she  noticed  that  his  voice,  though  ex 
cited,  did  not  sound  so  strong.  As  she  sat  down  and 
took  his  hand,  she  felt  it  hot.  It  held  hers  tight. 

"Poor  Gordy,"  she  said  softly.  "You'll  be  so 
much  better  very  soon." 

He  frowned  at  that. 

"Mighty  decent  of  you  to  come  way  down  here — 
after  the  kind  of  brother  I've  been.  But  I  guess  we'd 
better  face  things  as  they  are.  Joe  would  never  have 


MILLIONS  189 

sent  for  you,  and  you  wouldn't  have  got  the  whole, 
family  here,  unless  you  knew " 

She  interrupted : 

"Yes,  you've  had  a  very  close  shave.  But  you're 
almost  out  of  danger  now " 

He  shot  a  glance  that  went  into  her  like  a  sudden 
flash  of  light.  Then  he  stared  at  the  ceiling  as  be 
fore. 

"It  doesn't  feel  so,"  he  replied.  In  a  moment  he 
continued,  "Not  that  I'm  afraid  of  it.  It's  just — 
damned  tough — that's  all  it  is!  There  was  such  a 
lot  I  meant  to  do!  Plans?  Good  God!  .  .  .  . 
Well " 

He  smiled.  She  squeezed  his  hand  slowly  tighter 
and  said, 

"Gordon,  you're  not  going  to  die!  All  in  the 
world  you  need  is  rest!" 

But  he  gave  a  little  laugh  at  that. 

"That's  what  you  all  keep  telling  me !  But  it  isn't 
quite  square  to  a  fellow,  is  it — to  let  him  slip  over 
into  the  dark  without  giving  him  a  chance  to  finish 
up  his  business  here?  I'd  rather  look  it  in  the  face! 
I  can  stand  the  pain — but  what  I  can't  stand — so 
easily — is  being  forgotten!" 

Madge  caught  her  breath. 

"Why  Gordy,"  she  asked  him,  "where  in  the  world 


190  MILLIONS 

did  you  get  any  such  idea  as  that?  Ever  since  I 
came  here  I've  been  answering  the  'phone.  Your 
friends  keep  calling " 

He  broke  in. 

"Did  you  get  their  names?" 

"Yes " 

"Let's  hear  a  few — if  you  can  remember." 

"Oh  yes."  She  began  to  give  him  some.  When 
she  came  to  "Miss  O'Brien,"  he  asked, 

"When  was  that?" 

"Yesterday." 

He  was  silent,  but  she  guessed  he  was  thinking, 
"I've  sent  word  to  her  twice  since  then!  And  she 
knows  I'm  dying !"  After  a  little,  she  heard  him  say, 

"Well,  all  right,  so  much  for  that.  It's  a  gay 
old  town,  this  city  is.  Die,  and  you  can  die 
alone." 

Madge  leaned  over  him  suddenly. 

"Gordon,  is  there  anyone  that  you  want  me  to 
send  for  now?  If  you  do,  I'll  get  her !" 

"No  !  Leave  her  alone !"  He  lay  looking  up  with 
hard  bitter  eyes.  "I'm  sick  of  her — sick  of  every 
thing!" 

"You  won't  be,  Gordon !  Just  as  soon  as  we  can 
get  you  well  again " 

He  smiled  at  that  and  pressed  her  hand. 


MILLIONS 

"I'm  glad  you're  here,  Sis.  Stay  here,  please.  I'm 
afraid  to  go  home  alone  in  the  dark." 

As  she  sat  rigid  by  his  side,  the  tears  came  quickly 
in  her  eyes.  "I've  got  to  get  her,"  she  told  herself. 
"And  when  she  comes  she'll  tell  him,  of  course — 
tell  him  how  we  kept  her  out !  I  don't  care — it  can't 
be  helped!  This  is  what  comes  of  meddling  1" 

She  heard  her  brother's  voice  again : 

"We've  got  pretty  far  apart,  you  and  I,  since  the 
nights  when  we  used  to  sneak  down  to  the  river.  .  .  . 
Remember  the  time — that  moonshiny  night — when 
we  'ran  away  from  home  forever?' ' 

"Yes,"  she  whispered.    He  went  on: 

"When  we  got  into  the  boat,  I  asked,  'Now 
what'll  we  do?'  And  then  you  said,  folding  your 
fat  little  hands,  'Live  happy  ever  after,  of  course.'  ' 
He  chuckled.  "But  what  I  never  told  you  was  that 
the  rotten  old  painter  almost  broke.  .  .  .  Golly, 
how  I  wanted  to — to  cut  the  rope  and  float 
away." 

His  hand  relaxed;  he  shut  his  eyes. 

"This  won't  do!"  she  told  herself;  and  quickly, 
in  an  eager  voice,  she  spoke  of  other  memories — 
things  they  had  done  in  those  early  days;  and  of  his 
rapid  rise  since  then. 

"I've  been  mighty  proud  of  you,  dear,"  she  said, 


192  MILLIONS 

"and  I  expect  to  be  prouder  still  before  you  get 
through  I" 

"Oh,  it  hasn't  been  much  to  be  proud  of " 

But  she  went  on  in  the  same  tone:  "You're 
lucky  to  have  such  a  partner,  too,  as  Mr.  Evans — 
such  a  friend.  He  worships  you,  Gordon!"  Her 
brother  smiled. 

"We've  been  through  some  tight  places  together," 
he  said. 

"In  France,  you  mean " 

"Yes— and  here." 

She  could  see  his  thoughts  come  back  to  his  busi 
ness. 

"You  ought  to  get  away  from  it,  Gordon — just 
drop  business  for  a  while  and  get  away  with  Joe  to 
Texas — live  on  horseback — sleep  out  of  doors." 

"I'm  afraid  we  couldn't  drop  it  like  that.  Money 
is  pretty  tight,  just  now." 

As  he  went  on  speaking  of  his  affairs,  his  talk 
grew  unintelligible.  Banks,  business  firms,  the  names 
of  ships  and  of  government  officials  here  and  in 
England — all  came  in.  His  feverish  mind  grew  in 
coherent,  on  the  border  land  of  dreams.  Again  and 
again  she  tried  to  leave  him,  so  that  he  could  go  to 
sleep;  but  he  kept  her  there  each  time  by  a  sharp 
tightening  of  his  hand,  and  went  on  with  this  mut- 


MILLIONS  193 

tered  picture  of  his  life  in  these  last  years — a  life 
lean,  strenuous,  grasping,  hard;  then  suddenly  eager, 
boyish,  kind.  She  would  hear  him  chuckle  to  him 
self  over  Joe  and  various  things  they  had  done — 
down  at  the  office  or  up  in  these  rooms  or  in  the 
army  over  in  France.  His  thoughts  for  a  moment 
would  leap  over  there,  but  back  they  would  come  to 
his  life  in  New  York — to  his  business  worries — to 
Leonora.  And  each  time  he  thought  of  her,  his 
mind  would  seem  to  grow  clear  again.  All  the 
muttering  would  stop,  and  in  the  silence  Madge  could 
feel  his  feverish  will  hold  the  girl's  image  up  before 
him,  asking,  "Why  is  it?  What  have  I  done?" 
With  a  bitter  little  laugh  or  a  word,  back  he  would 
go  to  his  mutterings. 

"Well,"  she  thought,  "this  settles  it.  If  he  isn't 
better  by  night,  she  must  come !  Oh,  what  a  rumpus 
there  will  be!" 

3 

The  autumn  dusk  crept  into  the  room.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  bed,  the  nurse  would  come  from 
time  to  time.  Pulse,  respiration,  temperature. 
About  five,  she  made  a  sign  to  Madge  and  went  to 
the  door;  and  when  Madge  followed  her,  she  said, 

"Better  send  for  Doctor  Hoyt." 


194  MILLIONS 

As  Madge  went  to  the  telephone,  she  caught  an 
inquiring  look  from  her  cousin. 

"Any  change  in  him?"  asked  Ray. 

"Yes,  he's  worse.  The  nurse  wants  Doctor  Hoyt 
at  once." 

"Hadn't  Phil  better  go  to  him,  while  you're  get 
ting  the  doctor?"  Aunt  Abby  asked. 

"Yes— will  you,  Uncle?" 

"Yes,  my  dear." 

Their  voices  had  all  suddenly  become  so  friendly 
and  so  kind ! 

At  the  telephone  she  found  that  Hoyt  was  not  in 
his  office.  With  a  pang  of  dismay  she  said, 

"Then  find  him !  You  must  find  him !  We  ought 
to  have  him  here  right  off !" 

On  her  way  back  to  Gordon's  room,  her  aunt 
stopped  her. 

"Well?    Is  he  coming?" 

"They  can't  get  him  yet!" 

"Oh.  But — now  don't  worry,  child.  It's  lucky 
your  Uncle  Phil  is  here.  I  strongly  advise  you  to 
trust  him,  Madge." 

At  the  door  of  her  brother's  room,  Madge  made 
a  sign  to  Doctor  Cable,  and  he  came  out  to  the 
hall. 

"What  do  you  think?"  she  asked  him. 


MILLIONS  195 

His  reply  was  sharp  and  stern : 

"I  think  Gordon  must  be  made  to  rest!  This 
endless  talking  and  tossing  about  is  criminal!  It 
can't  go  on !  His  mind  is  working  like  an  engine — 
burning  up  what  little  strength  he  has  left!  We 
must  put  a  stop  to  it!" 

"Drug  him?" 

"Yes!" 

Madge  faced  him  a  moment,  with  her  hands 
slowly  locking,  unlocking.  Then  she  asked, 

"If  we  don't,  and  he  goes  on  like  this,  how  long 
will  it  be?  Not — not  any  minute?" 

"Oh,  no — he's  not  as  bad  as  that." 

She  drew  a  breath  of  relief  and  said, 

"Then  I'll  wait  for  Doctor  Hoyt." 

"Very  well,  Madge,"  her  uncle  replied;  but  the 
look  which  he  gave  her  added,  "You're  taking  Gor 
don's  life  in  your  hands." 

Mrs.  Dwight,  who  had  joined  them  and  listened 
intently,  now  spoke  up. 

"Madge,"  she  said,  in  a  solemn  tone,  "if  you  won't 
do  as  your  uncle  advises,  at  least  let  me  send  for 
Doctor  McAndrews." 

"Who?" 

"That  minister."  Madge  gave  a  start.  "We 
might  as  well  face  the  truth,  my  dear.  Gordon  is 


MILLIONS 


right  on  the  very  brink,  and  I  doubt  if  he's  been 

to  church  in  years." 

"Not  yet,  Aunt  Abby  —  oh,  not  yet!" 
And  Madge  went  back  to  his  bedside. 


"Did  you  get  him?"  asked  the  nurse. 

"No,  but  his  office  will  do  their  best  to  find  where 
he  is  and  send  him  here." 

As  Madge  sat  down,  her  eye  was  caught  by  a  small 
clock  which  belonged  to  the  nurse  and  stood  on  the 
table.  And  sitting  there  she  kept  looking  at  it  im 
patiently.  Again  she  went  to  the  telephone  and 
called  the  doctor's  office.  A  voice  replied, 

"He's  in  an  operation.  He'll  come  to  you  as  soon 
as  he's  through — and  in  the  meantime  he  has  left 
some  orders  I'm  to  give  the  nurse.  Please  ask  her 
to  come  to  the  'phone." 

"All  right,  I'll  get  her." 

And  she  did.  As  the  time  dragged  on,  she 
made  up  her  mind  to  send  for  Leonora  at  once.  Not 
knowing  where  to  reach  her,  she  called  up  Evans  at 
his  office.  He  was  gone.  She  tried  his  hotel.  He 
was  not  there.  "All  right,"  she  thought,  "he'll  be 
here  soon."  But  before  he  arrived,  the  doctor  came. 


MILLIONS  197 

With  relief  she  heard  his  gruff  voice  in  the  hall. 
uNow  he  will  decide  it!"  she  told  herself.  When 
he  came  in,  he  lost  no  time.  He  stood  watching 
Gordon  keenly  a  while,  then  took  the  chart  to  the 
table  and  read  it.  He  spoke  an  order  to  the  nurse, 
and  she  gave  him  a  needle,  which  he  filled  and  jabbed 
into  Gordon's  arm.  Presently  Madge  saw  her 
brother's  eyes  open  and  turn  to  the  surgeon's  face, 
and  she  knew  at  once  that  his  mind  was  clear. 

"Are  you  the  doctor  here?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  my  lad." 

"Then  I  want  to  know  how  close  I  am  to  going 
out.  If  I  am,  there's  something  I've  got  to  do — 
decide,  I  mean — somebody  I  must  see — to  settle 
something — it's  bothering  me"  he  said,  with  a  fixed 
unnatural  smile. 

Hoyt's  reply  was  blunt  and  clear: 

"I'm  betting  on  your  pulling  through.  If  you'll 
obey  orders  and  try  to  rest " 

"I  can't  till  I  see  her!" 

"In  that  case,  I  think  you'd  better  see  her,  my 
boy." 

A  few  minutes  later,  with  Madge  in  the  hall,  he 
asked  her, 

"Do  you  know  who  it  is  your  brother  wants?" 

"Yes " 


198  MILLIONS 

"Then  I'd  try  to  get  her  here,  just  as  quickly  as 
you  can." 

Madge  trembled.  She  was  thinking  fast.  She 
would  not  wait  any  longer  for  Joe.  Leonora  must 
be  at  her  theatre  now,  for  it  was  after  seven  o'clock 
and  she  must  need  a  lot  of  time  to  dress  and  make 
up  for  her  part. 

"Is  he  as  bad  as  that?"  she  asked. 

"He's  not  very  well !  He  may  die  either  way — 
but  her  coming  here  might  double  his  chances," 
Hoyt  replied.  "We  can't  let  him  go  on  exciting  him 
self.  If  we  do " 

"How  soon  would  the  crisis  come?" 

"It's  here  right  now,  Miss  Cable,"  was  his  im 
patient  answer.  But  noticing  the  strain  in  her 
eyes,  he  added  in  a  kinder  tone,  "I  don't  mean  he's 
going  to  die  in  an  hour — I'm  thinking  of  the  end  of 
the  night.  Your  brother  must  get  strength  for  that. 
His  mind  must  rest!" 

"Good  evening,  Doctor,"  said  Uncle  Phil,  who 
had  come  out  into  the  hall. 

"Good  evening,  sir." 

In  voices  which  did  not  try  to  hide  their  keen  dis 
like  for  one  another,  the  two  men  talked  for  a  little 
while,  in  questions  and  brief  curt  replies. 

"I've  been  advising  Miss  Cable,"  Hoyt  ended,  as 


MILLIONS  199 

he  picked  up  his  coat  from  a  chair,  "to  get  a  certain 
young  woman  at  once,  whom  your  nephew  has  been 
asking  for.  A  pity  she  wasn't  here  before — for  un 
til  she  comes  I  doubt  if  he'll  rest." 

"Do  you  know  who  she  is — or  what  she  is?" 
asked  Uncle  Phil.  The  other  replied, 

"That's  none  of  my  business,  is  it?" 

"Hasn't  she  seen  you  to-day?" 

"Who?" 

"This  girl.     Her  name  is  O'Brien." 

The  surgeon  reddened  a  bit  with  annoyance. 

"O'Brien?    Yes.     She  called  me  up." 

"I  thought  so.    And  what  did  she  say?" 

"There's  no  need  of  going  into  all  that.  She 
feels  that  you're  keeping  her  out  of  his  room.  Very 
well — you  may  have  good  reasons — that  is  none  of 
my  affair.  But  Miss  Cable  has  asked  for  my  advice. 
It  is  this.  If  you  want  to  keep  this  man  alive,  give 
him  anyone  he  wants." 

"You  can  see  no  other  way  out  of  this,  Doctor?" 

"No,  sir." 

"You  refuse  to  give  him  a  sedative?" 

UT       J      1> 

"There  I  disagree  with  you." 
Abruptly  the  surgeon  turned  to  Madge. 
"Then  suppose  I  drop  the  case,"  he  said. 


20O  MILLIONS 

"No,  no !  I  don't  want  you  to  do  that !"  She  put 
her  hand  quickly  on  his  arm,  and  in  a  desperate  voice 
she  repeated,  "Don't  do  that!" 

"Very  well,"  he  replied.  "Then  I'll  be  within 
call.  You  can  reach  me  any  time  to-night.  But 
I  hope  you  will  get  that  young  woman  here !" 


"Madge,"  said  her  uncle,  when  Hoyt  had  gone 
and  she  started  for  the  telephone,  "before  you  over 
rule  my  opinion  I  want  you  to  see  this  just  as  it  is. 
I  don't  want  you  to  take  a  step  that  you'll  be  sorry 
for  all  your  life." 

"Uncle  Phil,  please  give  it  up !"  she  replied,  in 
a  hard  and  tortured  voice.  "I'm  half  crazy!  But  I 
know  the  only  thing  that  I  can  do  is  to  take  the  very 
best  advice  this  city  has  to  offer  us — and  follow  it! 
That's  all  I  can  do !" 

"Yes,  if  you're  sure  it's  the  best  advice,  and  given 
all  on  Gordon's  account." 

She  shot  a  look  at  him. 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Did  this  man  Hoyt  ever  let  you  know — before 
I  forced  it  out  of  him — that  he  was  in  touch  with 
this  young  actress?" 

"No " 


MILLIONS  201 

"Why  didn't  Jie?  Why  did  he  act  as  though  he 
had  never  heard  of  her?" 

"Uncle  Phil,  are  you  trying  to  say  that  he  is  on 
her  payroll,  too?"  cried  Madge.  And  to  herself 
she  cried  again,  "Oh,  we're  all  crazy — crazy!" 

"No,"  was  his  answer,  "but  I  do  mean  that  she 
is  just  the  kind  of  girl — with  looks  and  brains  and 
vivid  charms — who  can  get  most  men  to  do  as  she 
likes.  Now  suppose  she  has  this  surgeon,  too — 
suppose  that  without  knowing  it  he  has  been  influ 
enced  by  this  girl?  She  may  have  been  seeing  him 
right  along.  I  say,  supposing  this  were  true?  Don't 
his  actions  all  fit  in?  Hasn't  he  been  doing  just 
what  she  would  want  him  to,  from  the  start?  First 
he  wanted  to  operate.  Why?  To  save  Gordon's 
life?  Quite  possibly.  I'm  not  accusing  him  of  a 
crime.  It's  a  very  close  decision  we  made,  and  a 
surgeon  could  easily  lean  a  bit  to  one  side  or  the 
other.  But  the  point  I'm  making  is  that  he  leaned 
the  way  she  wanted  him  to !" 

"How  do  you  know  she  wanted  it?" 

"Don't  you  remember — Monday  night — how 
strong  she  was  for  an  operation?" 

"Why,  then,  why?" 

"Because  that  gave  her  the  best  chance  of  bring 
ing  him  back  to  consciousness !  And  now  she  wants 


2O2  MILLIONS 

the  same  thing  again — and  this  fellow  Hoyt  agrees 
again!     Don't  drug  him — keep  him  conscious — no 
matter  how  much  he  suffers!     Why?     So  that  she 
can  see  him — show  him  her  love  for  him,  she  would 
say — and  by  showing  that  love  and  arousing  his,  be 
fore  the  nurse  as  witness,  get  the  declaration  she 
needs  for  a  big  scene  in  the  probate  court!" 
He  stopped,  and  at  once  Aunt  Abby  asked  Madge, 
"Well?    Isn't  it  all  as  clear  as  day?" 
"No — not  as  day,"  Madge  answered.     "I  don't 
feel  at  all  like  that !     I  feel  as  though  I  were  sitting 
at  the  movies — in  the  dark!" 

Ray  gave  a  cough  of  warning  then,  and  Madge 
saw  old  Abe  at  the  door,  his  dark  face  wrinkled  tight 
with  his  effort  to  learn  how  things  were  going  now. 
"Is  supper  ready,  Abe?"  she  asked. 
"Yes'm — yes'm,   Miss   Cable !"   he  said,  with  a 
quick  appealing  smile.     "So  it's  got  him,  too !"  she 
told  herself.     "He  looks  as  though  he  had  one  foot 
in  the  grave,  and  the  other  in  red  hot  coals !" 

6 

The  door  bell  rang,  and  she  turned  with  a  start. 
Ray  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  said, 

"Well,  there's  our  little  actress  friend.  I  thought 
it  was  about  time  for  a  scene." 


MILLIONS  203 

But  as  they  looked  toward  the  hall,  Madge  com 
manded  sternly, 

"Will  you  please  leave  this  to  me — and  go  in  to 
supper — all  of  you?" 

For  a  moment,  as  she  faced  them,  once  more  she 
felt  her  power  come  back. 

"Very  well,  Madge — just  as  you  say,"  agreed 
Aunt  Abby,  gently. 

As  she  went  to  the  door,  Madge  thought, 
"Thank  Heaven,  she  did  come!"  But  she  was 
wrong.  When  she  opened  the  door,  she  found  Joe 
there. 

"Sorry  I  had  to  ring,"  he  began.  "I  left  my  keys 
at  the  office."  Then  he  saw  her  expression,  and 
asked,  "What  has  happened,  Miss  Cable?  He  isn't 
dead!" 

"No — he  isn't  dead,"  she  said.  "Come  in  here 
and  I'll  tell  you." 

They  went  into  the  living  room,  and  in  a  low  voice 
she  gave  him  the  facts. 

"Now,"  she  ended,  "I  don't  propose  to  have  any 
more  delay  about  this.  If  she's  coming,  she  must 
come  to-night!" 

"Good!    That's  fine!" 

"But  I  want  to  talk  to  her  first !" 

"Why?"  he  asked.    "There  isn't  much  time " 


204  MILLIONS 

"Yes,  there  is — we've  got  hours  yet!  Hours!" 
she  repeated  as  though  to  reassure  herself. 

"But " 

"Are  you  deciding  this  or  am  I?" 

Again  catching  the  look  in  her  eyes,  he  said  to 
her,  in  a  steadying  tone, 

"Forgive  me,  Miss  Cable — please  go  on." 

But  she  was  not  to  be  quieted. 

"There's  very  little  more  to  say!  I'm  sick  of 
this  place — I  want  to  be  through!  To  do  what's 
right  and  then  get  away!" 

She  stopped,  with  a  slight  sob  in  her  throat. 

"I  understand,"  he  answered,  still  in  that  low 
steady  voice.  "And  now  you  want  to  see  her,  you 
say." 

"Yes,  I  do!  I've  got  to  see  that  girl  as  she  is! 
I'v%e  got  to  be  sure  she  won't  stir  him  all  up !  From 
all  I've  seen  of  her  and  heard,  she's  just  the  cheap 
emotional  kind  to  do  it — have  a  love  scene — a  good 
big  one — and  excite  him  so,  that  he'll  be  worse  than 
he  is  now!" 

One  moment  more  Joe  watched  her. 

"Well,"  he  answered  softly,  "I  reckon  that  will 
be  all  right.  If  you  want  to  see  her  as  she  is,  why 
not  see  her  at  her  job?  Better  come  right  now  to 
the  theatre." 


MILLIONS  205 

"All  right!" 

She  went  at  once  into  the  hall  and  opened  the  door 
onto  the  landing.  He  followed  her. 

"Don't  you  want  a  wrap?'1 

"No!"  she  exclaimed.  "I  haven't  time!  Come 
quick,  or  they'll  all  make  a  fuss !  They  heard  us 
talking,  you  may  be  sure!  And  I  can't  stand  more 
arguing!" 

She  drew  him  out  and  shut  the  door,  and  then 
in  a  panic  she  started  downstairs.  No  time  to  wait 
for  the  elevator !  Down  and  down,  flight  after  flight. 
Would  they  never  end  ?  She  gave  a  breathless  laugh. 
"There  it  is!  Stop  it!"  From  above,  the  ele 
vator  came  smoothly  down.  Joe  called,  and  it 
stopped  and  they  got  in.  And  a  few  moments  later, 
down  on  the  street,  he  hailed  a  taxi  and  helped  her 
inside. 

He  was  talking  now,  but  she  did  not  hear.  .Al 
ready  she  was  a  little  scared  by  what  she  had  done — 
and  hysterical.  Her  thoughts  and  feelings  played 
queer  tricks.  Suddenly  the  certainty  came  that  her 
Uncle  Phil  was  right  about  this !  He  had  been  right 
from  the  very  start!  Right  about  the  operation 
and  in  this  drugging  plan  of  his!  "It's  sensible! 
And  I'm  throwing  it  over!  I'll  be  to  blame  if  Gor 
don  dies!"  She  clenched  her  hands— but  the  next 


206  MILLIONS 

instant  all  this  certainty  was  gone.  "I  tell  you  it's 
all  nonsense!  I'm  following  the  best  advice  and 
judgment  I  can  get  in  New  York  for  love  or  money  P* 
She  stopped  with  a  jerk.  Love  or  Money?  Why 
was  that  phrase  so  queerly  familiar?  Oh,  yes — she 
remembered  now.  The  title  of  a  moving  picture  she 
and  Amanda  Berry  had  seen,  only  a  few  weeks  ago. 
With  a  grim,  excited  smile,  back  she  came  to  the 
question  here.  "I  haven't  decided  yet,"  she  thought. 
"I'll  see  her — and  then  make  up  my  mindP' 

Then  she  felt  Joe's  hand  on  hers,  and  instantly  a 
feeling  came  which  made  her  angry,  tense  and  cold. 
As  she  snatched  her  hand  away,  he  said,  speaking 
slowly  and  quietly, 

"I  jest  knew  that  I  could  count  on  you.  I  reckon 
youVe  had  a  right  hard  time — but  you're  doing  jest 
the  right  thing  now — and  we'll  never  forget  it,  Gordy 
and  I." 

She  made  no  response.  As  he  talked  on,  about 
Gordon's  chances  and  how  this  would  pull  him 
through,  that  sudden  poignant  feeling  left  her. 
"He's  not  thinking  of  me,"  she  decided,  "but  of  Gor 
don  and  of  her.  I'm  only  a  little  old  maid  who  can 
help,  and  then  go  back  where  I  belong."  But  at 
once  she  almost  laughed  aloud  with  contempt  for 
this  self-pity  of  hers.  "Isn't  that  exactly  what  I 


MILLIONS  207 

want — to  get  right  out  of  this,  good  and  quick? 
And  I'm  doing  it!"  Just  for  a  minute  her  mind  ran 
back  over  those  dreams  for  a  grand  new  life.  Once 
more,  like  the  shadow  of  a  thought,  came  the  feeling 
that  as  her  brother's  life  flowed  in  again,  her  own 
was  ebbing.  And  she  smiled. 

"They're  almost  through  with  me  now.  And 
yet — and  yet  I'm  still  the  one  who  has  got  to  decide  I 
It's  funny !" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

i 

As  they  drew  near  the  theatre  in  the  dense  eve 
ning  traffic,  and  she  saw  Leonora's  name  in  spark 
ling  lights  up  over  the  entrance,  a  little  feeling  of 
panic  came.  In  the  lobby,  while  Joe  was  getting  the 
tickets,  some  women  in  furs  and  evening  gowns  stood 
close  beside  her,  talking  and  laughing;  and  instantly 
Madge  was  conscious  of  her  own  appearance  here — 
in  a  street  suit,  and  bareheaded.  "I  don't  care," 
she  told  herself.  "Why  should  I,  at  a  time  like 
this?"  But  it  wasn't  just  a  matter  of  clothes;  it 
was  deeper.  All  her  visions  of  a  grand  new  life  had 
flown  away,  and  she  felt  her  confidence  oozing  fast; 
she  dreaded  what  she  must  do  to-night.  To  hide 
her  confusion,  over  her  face  came  the  mask  of  com 
posure  it  had  worn  in  the  nobody  days;  and  all  at 
once  she  was  again  the  prim  little  woman  of  Sunday 
night,  who  had  walked  through  the  Grand  Central 
carrying  a  suit  case. 

When  they  took  their  seats  inside,  the  curtain  was 

already  up,  and  at  once  her  eyes  were  fixed  on  the 

208 


MILLIONS  209 

stage.  She  saw  a  Florida  beach,  with  palmettos, 
and  a  vivid  blue  ocean  behind.  Leonora,  in  a  group 
at  tea,  was  flirting  with  a  heavy  young  man  who 
appeared  to  be  a  millionaire.  She  was  gay  and 
vivacious,  she  was  droll.  In  a  moment,  at  some  line 
she  spoke,  the  house  exploded  in  a  laugh  so  sudden 
that  it  made  Madge  jump,  and  sent  a  tingling 
through  her  limbs.  But  the  next  moment  her  jaw 
set  hard. 

"Yes,  but  Gordon  is  dying!"  she  thought.  "Could 
any  woman  act  like  this,  if  she  really  cared  for  him? 
How  could  she  miss  him  long  if  he  died?  She  hasn't 
it  in  her — she  has  this !  This  is  her  life — she's  made 
for  this — not  for  loving  one  man — always " 

Her  thoughts  ran  on,  swift,  sharp  as  a  knife.  But 
in  spite  of  herself  the  spell  of  the  scene  took  hold 
of  her,  as  she  drank  in  the  luxury  and  glamor  here. 
Her  look  was  still  on  Leonora's  face  and  figure,  sup 
ple,  lithe.  Hat,  gloves  and  slippers — how  adorably 
fresh  they  were ;  and  oh,  what  a  lovely  gown !  The 
rest  of  the  group  had  left  them  now;  and  alone 
with  her  young  Croesus,  Leonora  was  leading  him 
on,  with  a  mischievous  gleam  in  her  black  eyes.  She 
threw  back  her  head  and  laughed  at  him.  In  an  in 
stant  he  leaned  forward,  seizing  both  her  hands  in 
his.  And  glancing  about  her,  Madge  could  see  the 


210  MILLIONS 

same  smiling  hungry  look  in  the  faces  of  men  on 
every  side,  as  they  feasted  their  eyes  upon  the  stage. 
Yes,  men  were  certainly  all  alike  I  Leonora  seemed 
suddenly  brazen,  hard.  By  now  in  the  story  it  had 
appeared  that  she  was  a  young  widow  here.  "Yes, 
and  this  is  just  how  she'd  be  with  Gordon's  money, 
if  he  died!" 

A  strained  vindictive  little  laugh  burst  out  of 
Madge ;  and  as  her  companion  gave  her  a  quick  un 
easy  look,  she  started  to  clutch  his  arm  and  say, 
"Let's  leave  now!  I've  seen  enough!"  But  his  ex 
pression  made  her  change  her  mind.  "No,  I've  got 
to  go  through  with  this!"  Then  down  came  the 
curtain,  and  Joe  rose  at  once  and  said, 

"I  know  that  she  will  see  us.  Better  come  now 
and  not  lose  any  time." 

2 

He  took  her  around  behind  the  boxes,  swung 
open  a  heavy  iron  door  and  led  her  into  a  crowded 
place  of  hurried  voices,  swooping  walls.  Confused, 
she  followed  close  behind  him  to  an  open  dressing 
room  door — and  there  she  stopped  abruptly,  at  sight 
of  Leonora's  face.  The  fresh  seductiveness  was 
gone,  the  face  was  hard  and  lined  with  strain. 

The  girl  did  not  see  Madge  at  first. 


MILLIONS  211 

"What  is  it,  Joe  ?    Quick— tell  me  I" 

"He's  all  right,  Nora — I  mean  he's  no  worse. 
But  there  has  been  a  change.  He's  conscious." 

"Oh!  And  better,  you  mean?"  As  he  hesitated, 
she  cried,  "Well?  Which  is  it?  Better  or  worse?" 

"He's  pretty  sick,  Nora " 

"What  do  you  mean?  They're  not  giving  him 
up,  Joe,  are  they?" 

"No." 

"Has  he— asked  for  me?" 

"Yes,"  said  Joe. 

"Oh,  Gordy !"  As  she  whispered  that,  she  caught 
sight  of  Madge,  behind  in  the  dark,  outside  the 
door;  but  she  gave  no  sign  of  having  seen  her.  In 
a  hard  clear  voice,  she  demanded, 

"And  are  they  still  set  on  keeping  me  out?" 

"His  sister  isn't,"  Joe  replied.  "And  I've  brought 
her  here  to  see  you." 

He  moved  aside  and  Madge  came  in. 

"Oh.     Good  evening." 

"How  do  you  do?  I  want  to  talk  with  you,  Miss 
O'Brien." 

Leonora  flashed  a  look,  hostile,  sharp  and  ques 
tioning,  up  into  the  visitor's  face.  In  the  meantime, 
Joe  had  turned  to  the  door. 

"I  reckon  I'll  leave  you  two  alone." 


212  MILLIONS 

"No!  Don't!"  Madge  begged  him.  But  he  was 
gone.  She  was  trembling  now.  Stiffly,  Leonora  said, 

"Thank  you  for  coming.  Sit  down,  please.  I've 
so  little  time — and  I've  got  to  make  up  for  the  next 
act." 

While  her  maid  was  busy  with  her  hair,  she  was 
using  paint  and  grease;  and  as  Madge  sat  down,  she 
noticed  her  hands.  Nerves?  They  were  perfect 
bundles!  "Now  she's  trying  to  think  what  to  say 
— how  to  handle  me,"  thought  Madge.  The  girl's 
dark  eyes  shot  another  look  at  her — from  the  mir 
ror. 

"Well,"  she  began,  in  a  low  voice,  "now  that  your 
brother  wants  me  there,  will  you  let  me  come  to 
night?" 

"That's  what  I  want  to  talk  about.  This  isn't 
so  simple  for  me  as  you  think.  Gordon's  family " 

Leonora  broke  in :  "Oh,  you  needn't  tell  me  about 
them!" 

"Needn't  I?"  Madge  answered.  "Oh,  what  a 
pity  somebody  didn't  tell  you  about  them — days  ago 
— before  you  treated  them  as  you  did — as  so  many 
little  nobodies — outsiders  you  could  brush  aside." 

For  a  moment  there  was  no  reply.  Another  ques 
tioning  flash  from  the  mirror.  Then,  in  a  desperate 
humble  tone,  she  heard  Leonora  say, 


MILLIONS  213 

"Yes,  Miss  Cable,  I  guess  you  are  right.  I  acted 
like  a  little  fool — never  stopping  to  think  of  the 
way  they'd  feel.  I  see  it  now,  and  I'm  sorry !  But 
don't  forget  my  side  of  it  all!  Just  try  to  put 
yourself  in  my  place!  You  love  a  man.  You've 
been  so  close — so  close  you're  simply  frantic  when 
you  learn  that  he  may  die.  Then  you  go  to  his 
home,  and  there  you  find — you  find  a  lot  of 
strangers — whom  he  hasn't  seen  for  years!  And 
they  can  put  you  out !  They  can — because  they  are 
his  family!" 

"Yes,"  said  Madge,  "I  see  all  that— and  I'll 
admit  it's  mighty  hard.  But  I've  got  his  life  to 
think  of  now.  I  want  you  please  to  understand 
that  this  isn't  any  question  of  morality  with  me — 
it's  Gordon's  life!  What  he  needs  is  rest!  My 
uncle  wants  to  make  him  rest  by  giving  him 
something  to  quiet  him!  He  says,  if  I  let  you 
into  the  room,  you  will  only  excite  him — stir 
him  all  up — because  your  love  has  been  like 
that!" 

"I  won't  do  that !  I'm  not  such  a  fool !"  Leonora 
said  impatiently.  She  winced  and  gave  a  little  cry. 
"Anny,  for  God's  sake  stop  pulling  my  hair !"  While 
they  talked,  she  had  been  touching  up  her  lips  and 
cheeks  and  eyebrows,  and  giving  directions  to  the 


214  MILLIONS 

maid.     At  her  exclamation  now,  Madge  retorted 
steadily, 

"How  can  you  tell  what  you'll  do?  You  may  not 
be  able  to  help  yourself — in  the  state  you're  in " 

"I  tell  you  I  can  control  myself!"  the  girl  cried, 
almost  with  a  sob. 

"You  haven't  shown  it  with  us,"  said  Madge. 
"And  even  if  you  do  succeed,  and  really  try  to  keep 
him  quiet,  can  you  do  it?  With  you  right  there, 
how  will  he  feel?  How  does  he  want  you?  What 
kind  of  memories  will  you  bring?  Of  the  accident, 
to  start  with — and  then  of  many  other  times  when 
you  two  were  together."  She  hesitated,  reddening, 
feeling  herself  right  on  the  edge  of  a  whole  stormy 
inner  world  of  which  she  knew  nothing.  But  she 
went  on :  "That  sort  of  thing  won't  help  him  now. 
What  he  needs  is  something  deeper,  bigger,  steadier 
— the  kind  of  love  that  can  look  steadily  right  at 
death." 

Out  of  the  mirror  came  a  look,  amused,  con 
temptuous,  which  said,  "You  ridiculous  little  old 
maid — where  did  you  get  all  this?  On  the  screen?" 
Madge  blushed  and  went  on,  speaking  faster: 

"Remember,  please,  that's  it  up  to  me  to  decide 
this,  one  way  or  the  other !  I  don't  want  to — I  hate 
it — I've  been  dragged  in !  But  now  that  I'm  in,  with 


MILLIONS  215 

my  brother's  life  right  in  my  hands,  I'm  not  going  to 
just  step  aside  till  I  know  I'm  not  making  a  mistake ! 
So,  if  you  want  to  see  him  to-night,  you  will  have  to 
show  me  two  things — first,  that  you  can  control  your 
self ;  and  second,  that  you  care  for  him  in  a  much 
bigger,  deeper  way  than  what  I've  heard!" 

"From  a  coon  chauffeur!" 

Madge  rose  from  her  chair. 

"Go  on  like  this,  and  you'll  never  see  Gordon  to 
night!"  she  said.  The  girl  bit  her  lip. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  say  that!"  she  replied.  Her 
voice  was  humble,  penitent.  But  Madge  was  im 
placable. 

"No,  it  just  burst  out  of  you — because  you  can't 
control  yourself.  I'm  wondering  if  you'll  be  able  to 
do  any  better  with  him  than  with  me." 

Before  Leonora  could  reply,  a  voice  outside  the 
door  announced,  "Five  minutes,  Miss  O'Brien." 

"All  right— all  right!  Oh,  God  Almighty !  Can't 
they  give  me  a  little  time?"  As  she  turned  to 
Madge,  her  voice  was  shaking:  "I  can't  go  on  for 
my  scene  like  this — I've  got  to  get  myself  in  hand!" 

"Then  I'll  go,"  said  Madge. 

"Please  don't  do  that!  I  haven't  begun!  For 
God's  sake — please — stay  here  and  wait!  I  won't 
be  long !  And  I'll  make  you  see !  Now  that  I  know 


2l6  MILLIONS 

what  it  is  you  want — those  two  things  you  want  to 
know " 

"But  I  can  come  back." 

"No — wait  right  here !" 

"Very  well — if  you  wish." 

And  sitting  quite  still  in  her  chair,  Madge  watched 
the  young  actress  rise  and  stand  while  an  evening 
gown  was  put  deftly  on  with  a  speed  which  seemed 
miraculous.  In  the  meantime,  snatching  up  a  tat 
tered  "part"  from  the  table,  Leonora  fixed  her 
eyes  on  certain  lines.  In  a  few  moments  she  went 
out,  and  through  the  open  dressing  room  door 
Madge  could  see  her  standing  behind  the  wing.  Her 
lips  were  moving  rapidly.  The  voices  of  two  other 
actors  could  be  heard  through  the  flimsy  partition 
that  shut  off  the  scene.  There  came  a  line  which 
was  her  cue ;  a  smile  of  deep  amusement  appeared  by 
magic  on  her  face — and  Leonora  sauntered  on. 
Then  her  low  provocative  laugh  was  heard — and  in 
stantly  in  response  a  slight  murmur  of  sound  from 
the  house.  Madge  sat  bolt  upright,  listening.  How 
must  it  feel  to  hold  people  like  that?  A  thousand 
people — maybe  more — all  listening  for  your  slight 
est  breath,  all  watching  every  move  you  made,  your 
faintest  little  ghost  of  a  smile !  She  let  her  thoughts 
drift  for  a  while,  glad  of  escape  from  the  question 


MILLIONS  217 

which  she  must  so  soon  decide.  In  the  meantime, 
Anny  the  maid,  a  stout,  smart-looking  woman  of 
middle  age,  had  busied  herself  about  the  small  room. 
She  went  out  now,  and  Madge's  eyes  went  to  the  low 
wide  table  with  its  disorderly  array  of  toilet  articles, 
large  and  tiny.  What  a  life !  Now  again  she  could 
hear  from  the  stage  the  voice  of  Leonora  rising 
gay  and  vibrant,  and  once  more  from  out  in  front 
came  a  quick  burst  of  merriment. 

"How  can  she  do  it?  Acting,  is  she?  Then 
what  was  she  doing  here  with  me?  Acting,  too?'1 

No,  that  had  been  real.  She  remembered  the  look 
on  the  girl's  dark  face — frightened,  desperate,  off 
her  high  horse.  "But  this  is  her  job,"  Madge  told 
herself.  "If  she  were  not  gay  to-night,  she  wouldn't 
be  earning  her  salary."  Then  with  the  force  of  a 
revelation  came  the  thought,  "She  works  hard  at 
it,  too,  night  after  night.  Yes,  when  you  come  to 
think  of  it,  she's  a  working  woman  like  me.  Only, 
our  jobs  aren't  quite  the  same."  As  Madge  recalled 
the  cashier's  desk  in  Hale  and  Pritchett's  dry  goods 
store,  her  features  set  in  a  curious  smile.  "If 
Amanda  Berry  could  see  me  now!"  Suddenly  it 
struck  her  as  comic,  this  idea  that  Amanda  and  she 
and  Leonora  were  all  in  one  great  sisterhood.  "A 
school  teacher,  a  cashier  and  an  actress!  Quite  a 


2l8  MILLIONS 

trinity!"  she  thought.  She  caught  herself  up. 
Rather  blasphemous,  that.  How  had  that  idea 
come  popping  up?  But  so  many  queer  ideas  and 
plans  had  come  popping  up  in  these  last  days. 
Again  there  came  to  her  a  sense  of  how,  in  the 
searching  glare  of  this  crisis,  her  whole  life  had  been 
revealed — with  so  many  old  beliefs  and  standards 
crowded  out  by  new  desires,  lost  in  the  whirl.  And 
it  was  a  little  startling.  But  there  was  satisfacion 
in  it,  too.  She  recalled  how  she  had  handled  the 
talk  with  Leonora  just  now.  "At  least,"  she 
thought,  "I've  made  her  feel  I'm  not  a  strait-laced 
little  Puritan."  Still  listening  to  the  voice  on  the 
stage,  she  had  again  a  sudden  sense  of  Leonora's 
warm  rich  life.  Her  eyes  were  on  the  wide  low 
table,  and  moving  slightly  in  her  chair  she  could 
see  her  own  face  in  the  mirror  there.  She  began 
to  detect  the  wrinkles.  Middle  age  was  creeping 
on.  And  Madge  sat  looking  at  herself  and  listen 
ing  to  the  voice  outside. 

"I  wonder  what  she'll  have  to  tell  me,  and  which 
wayi  I  shall  decide?  I  wonder  what  will  become 
of  me  then — where  I'll  be  in  a  week  from  now?" 
With  a  grim  smile  at  herself,  she  replied,  "But  who 
in  the  whole  world  cares  about  that?  I  don't  know 
as  I  do  myself — exactly." 


MILLIONS  219 

Anny,  the  stout,  quiet  maid,  came  back  and  began 
to  get  ready  for  the  next  change.  In  a  minute  or 
two,  a  burst  of  clapping  told  that  the  curtain  had 
come  down.  Then  up  again  it  went  for  a  moment — 
and  again.  Madge  could  tell  it  by  the  applause,  and 
she  pictured  Leonora  out  there.  But  when  a  little 
later  the  girl  came  quickly  into  the  room,  the  look 
on  her  dark  oval  face  was  tense  and  haggard  as 
before. 

"Thank  you  for  waiting — Madge,"  she  said. 

Madge  started  at  the  sound  of  her  name,  but  the 
other  took  no  notice  of  that.  She  sat  down  at  once 
and  began  with  her  make-up.  Her  voice  was  care 
fully  quiet: 

"I've  been  trying  to  see  your  side  of  this,  and 
how  you  feel — and  I  think  I  do  now.  I've  been  hor 
ribly  stupid  and  clumsy  about  it — a  perfect  little 
beast  to  you.  And  you're  mighty  decent  to  do  what 
youVe  done.  In  spite  of  those  relatives  of  yours, 
you're  honestly  trying  to  do  what  is  fair,  and  best 
for  Gordon.  But  what  do  you  know?  They  give 
you  some  stories  from  a  chauffeur — and  you  tie  that 
up  with  what  you've  read  in  the  papers — or  seen 
in  the  movies — and " 

"Never  mind  me,"  Madge  interrupted.  "We 
haven't  very  much  time,  you  know.  Let's  come  to 


220  MILLIONS 

the  point.  Do  you  love  my  brother  enough  so  that 
you  can  do  what  is  needed  to-night?  I  don't  care 
if  you  marry  or  not.  All  I  want  to  know  is  whether 
your  love  is  big  enough  and  steady  enough  to  save 
his  life.  If  you  love  him  in  the  way  I  mean,  I've 
been  wondering  how  you  can  be  acting  in  a  play  of 
this  kind,  when  he's  at  the  point  of  death?  Of 
course  it's  your  profession,  I  know.  But — • — " 

"It's  more  than  that!"  was  the  quick  reply. 
"This  play  of  mine  is  just  as  near  the  point  of  death 
as  he  is!" 

Madge  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 

"It  doesn't  seem  to  be !"  she  said 

"No,  it  doesn't  seem  to  be!  The  house  looks 
crowded!  But  you  didn't  know  that  half  of  it  at 
least  is  'paper' — I  mean,  people  who  don't  pay!" 

"But — the  applause  !"  insisted  Madge. 

"Yes,  there's  a  very  good  chance  for  it  still.  But 
IVe  got  to  work  every  minute  and  every  second  I'm 
on  the  stage !  And  that's  what  I've  been  doing — 
Monday,  Tuesday,  and  now  to-night !  And  I've  just 
learned  from  out  in  front  there's  six  hundred  dollars 
in  the  house !  That's  better !  The  business  is  pick 
ing  up — and  if  we  can  keep  on  like  this,  shoving 
it  up  and  up  each  night,  we'll  save  it  yet  I  Do  you 
understand?" 


MILLIONS  221 

"But,"  said  Madge,  with  a  blank  look,  "if  it's 
only  a  little  money  to  tide  it  over,  that  you  need — 
my  brother  is  worth  millions!" 

She  caught  a  queer  little  glance  from  the  mirror; 
but  when  Leonora  spoke,  her  tone  once  more  was 
carefully  quiet: 

"I  see.  You  thought  he  was  supporting  me — that 
all  this  actress  love  of  mine  was  bought  and  paid 
for." 

"No!"  said  Madge.  "I  didn't  think  that!  I 
only  meant " 

"Why  shouldn't  you?  Don't  think  I'm  getting 
excited  again.  I'm  not.  I  say,  why  shouldn't  you? 
You  know  we're  not  married,  and  you've  heard 
some  things  about  us* — and  they're  true.  So  you  ask, 
'What  kind  of  love  is  that?'  And  that  is  what  I've 
got  to  explain — I've  got  to  make  you  see  how  I 
feel.  What  is  loving  a  man — what  does  it  mean? 
Can't  you — without  marrying  him?  You  don't  be 
lieve  so." 

"You're  wrong!"  said  Madge.  "I've  already  told 
you  I  don't  care  whether  or  not  you  marry — — " 

"Yes — I  heard  you" — with  a  smile — "but  way 
down  inside  of  you,  Madge,  you're  more  old  fash 
ioned  than  you  know.  Now  please  let  me  make  my 
point.  He  wanted  to  marry,  but  I  refused — not 


222  MILLIONS 

because  I  take  any  stock  in  these  fool  notions  against 
getting  married — not  at  all !  But  he  wanted  me  to 
give  up  the  stage!  And  I  wouldn't!  It's  my  job! 
I'm  not  even  sure  that  I  would  now!  But  I  do 
love  him!"  she  went  on.  "And  what  I  mean  by 
that,"  she  said,  "is  not  what  they've  been  telling 
you!  I've  done  all  that,  and  I'm  not  in  the  least 
ashamed  that  I  have.  It  was  the  best  that  I  could 
do,  unless  I  gave  up  my  career.  And  there  was  more 
in  it  than  you've  heard.  Your  brother  and  I  loved 
music — and  every  chance  that  we  could  get,  at  a 
concert  or  an  opera,  we  just  grabbed,  as  a  regular 
spree !  And  we  both  loved  beautiful  dancing,  too — 
you  know  what  I  mean? — the  Russian  kind.  And 
last  summer  we  cruised  way  up  the  Sound,  in  a  little 
boat  he  rented — cooked  our  breakfasts,  lived  out  of 
doors,  fished,  swam  and  talked  and  talked  and  talked 
of  a  trip  we  wanted  to  make  to  Japan.  And  that 
was  only  one  of  the  plans!  And  all  this  sort  of 
thing  went  into  the  way  we  loved  one  another — 
understand?  And  all  this  is  in  his  mind  to-night! 
Those  memories  you're  afraid  of " 

Again  the  call-boy  came  around. 

"Five  minutes,  Miss  O'Brien." 

She  threw  a  glance  at  Madge's  face,  and  went  on 
with  sudden  tension, 


MILLIONS  223 

"Look  here.  If  I  had  time,  I  know  I  could  make 
you  see  all  this  in  another  way — for  you've  made 
me  feel  that  you're  not  strait-laced  or  narrow  or 
blind  to  the  way  ideas  are  changing  everything  in  a 
woman's  life — and  so  we  could  get  together  on 
this.  But  there  isn't  time,  and  there's  no  need.  Be 
cause  you're  fair.  You're  not  the  kind  to  step  in 
between  your  brother  and  me.  That's  our  affair. 
He  may  die  to-night!  You  won't  keep  me  away 
from  him — if  he  wants  me — more  and  more.  And 
he  does — I  tell  you  I  know,  I  know !  I've  meant  a 
lot  in  his  life!  You  haven't!  In  all  these  months 
together  I've  barely  heard  him  mention  your  name !" 
Madge  stiffened  at  this,  but  the  tone  in  which  the 
words  were  spoken  took  out  the  sting.  It  was  des 
perate,  pleading,  rapid  and  low.  "And  those  other 
relatives — they're  all  outsiders — nothing  more! 
They  may  have  been  close  to  him  when  he  was  small 
— in  the  little  old  world  of  long  ago  which  you  and 
I  have  left  behind — but  it  isn't  a  child,  it's  a  man 
that's  dying!  And  he  wants  me — wants  me — and 
that's  all  you  need  to  know!  That  it's  Gordon's  life 
— not  yours  or  theirs — and  that  he  has  a  right  to 
do  as  he  likes!" 

"Yes,  if  it  doesn't  kill  him!"  said  Madge.  Her 
face  was  flushed  and  trembling.  "Are  you  abso- 


224  MILLIONS 

lutely  sure  that  you  can  be  quiet  with  him  to 
night?" 

"I  will —  I  can!  If  I  haven't  made  you  feel  it 
now,  it's  just  because  I've  had  no  time — and  because 
I'm  pretty  near  the  point  where  I  want  to  break 
right  down  and  cry.  But  I  haven't — and  I've  shown 
you  that  I  can  control  all  that !  And  I  will  if  I  see 
him — I  can — I  can!" 

Madge  had  risen  from  her  seat.  For  just  a  mo 
ment  longer  she  stood  there,  trembling,  watching. 

"I  guess  you'd  better  come,"  she  said. 

"Thank  you,  Madge!    God  bless  you,  dear!" 

"No  thanks  at  all.  Remember  your  promise.  It's 
to  be  quiet."  She  stopped,  with  a  frown.  "The 
main  thing  is  that  it's  none  of  my  business — and  I 
ought  to  have  seen  it  before.  Now  I'll  be  going." 

"One  thing  more!  May  I  see  him  alone?  Will 
you  keep  those  others  out  of  the  room?" 

"Yes,  I'll  try  to  keep  them  out.  But  you  get 
there  just  as  soon  as  you  can !" 

3 

When  again  she  was  left  alone,  Madge  stood 
staring.  "No,"  she  thought,  "I'm  not  going  to  take 
it  on  myself  to  stand  between  them  any  more.  .  .  . 
I  must  go  back  now.  Joe  will  be  waiting." 


MILLIONS  225 

But  as  she  started  to  leave  the  room,  again  she 
heard  Leonora's  voice  from  the  stage;  and  she 
stopped  to  listen.  The  voice  was  cold  and  indiffer 
ent  now.  In  the  second  act  the  two  lovers  had  quar 
reled,  and  they  had  still  to  make  it  up.  Leonora 
was  keeping  him  off.  "Yes,"  thought  Madge,  ushe 
certainly  can  control  herself — out  there  on  the  stage. 
But  with  Gordon,  in  his  room — that  will  be  differ 
ent — that  will  be  real!"  She  felt  a  twinge  of  sharp 
suspense;  then  once  more  her  mind  let  go.  Out  on 
the  stage  they  were  rapidly  coming  into  the  big 
scene  of  the  play;  and  as  Leonora's  low  rich  voice 
began  to  rise,  Madge  remembered  how  the  girl  had 
asked  her,  "What  do  you  know?  They  give  you 
some  stories  from  a  chauffeur,  and  you  tie  them  up 
with  what  you've  read  in  the  papers' — seen  in  the 
movies."  The  voice  was  like  a  challenge  now. 
"What  do  you  know  about  loving  a  man?  Think 
of  your  life.  Cashier  in  a  store  in  a  dull  little  town 
— and  you  live  in  a  flat  with  varnished  stairs — and 
you're  already  thirty-two.  Men?  Love?  For 
you?"  Leonora's  voice  had  ceased;  the  voice  of 
her  lover  was  speaking.  And  looking  into  the  mir 
ror  and  asking,  "What  man  ever  spoke  to  me,  or 
will  ever  speak  to  me,  like  that?" — Madge  gave  a 
hard  little  laugh. 


226  MILLIONS 

"Oh,  for  goodness  sake  let's  try  to  use  some  com 
mon  sense !  Now  to  get  out  of  this  and  back  home ! 
Back  to  business!"  she  told  herself. 

On  the  ride  back,  in  the  taxi,  she  listened  to  what 
Joe  was  saying,  in  a  friendly  anxious  tone;  and  she 
thought,  "He's  bucking  me  up  for  what  I've  still  to 
go  through  when  I  reach  the  apartment."  When 
they  arrived  at  the  door,  he  said, 

"I'll  go  back  to  the  theatre.  The  play  will  be 
about  over  then,  and  I'll  have  her  here  in  half  an 
hour." 

"The  sooner  the  better,"  Madge  replied. 

4 

She  went  up  to  the  apartment  and  found  her  rela 
tives  in  the  front  room.  Her  Uncle  Phil  looked  up 
from  his  paper. 

"Well,  Madge?"  he  asked. 

"Uncle,"  she  said,  "I've  made  up  my  mind  that 
I  don't  care  to  take  the  risk  of  going  any  longer 
against  Gordon's  wishes  here." 

"You  mean  you  want  Miss  O'Brien  to  come. 
Have  you  seen  her?" 

"Yes " 

"Where?" 

"At  the  theatre," 


MILLIONS  227 

"Did  she  give  you  a  fine  performance,  Madge?" 
her  cousin  asked,  with  irony. 

"It  wasn't  acting,  Ray — it  was  real!" 

"And  she  is  coming  to-night,  I  suppose,"  said 
Uncle  Phil. 

"Yes — very  soon!" 

Aunt  Abby  rose  from  her  chair  and  said, 

"Then  I  for  one  don't  care  to  be  here." 

"Easy  now,  Mother,"  said  her  son.  "Sit  down, 
won't  you,  and  give  us  a  chance.  Let's  try  to  get 
together  on  this."  His  manner  was  suddenly  friendly, 
appealing.  "Look  here,  Madge,  don't  get  sore 
about  this.  If  you  promised  this  young  flapper  she 
could  come,  that  settles  it.  The  only  thing  left  for 
us  to  do  is  to  fix  things  so  she  won't  be  able  to  put 
through  any  crooked  work." 

"I  tell  you,  Ray,  you're  wrong — absolutely!  The 
thought  of  Gordon's  money  doesn't  even  enter  her 
head!" 

He  threw  her  a  look  of  exasperation,  but  in  a  pa1- 
tient  voice  he  said, 

"All  right,  all  right — don't  get  excited.  Now 
listen,  Madge — I've  been  giving  this  a  good  long 
think  while  you  were  gone.  We  guessed  what  you 
were  up  to,  of  course.  *  And  I  figured  out  that  your 
trouble  began  when  we  put  the  lady  out  last  night. 


228  MILLIONS 

We  did  handle  her  rough — I'll  admit  it — at  least  it 
looked  that  way  to  you — and  youVe  been  stand 
offish  ever  since.  But  how  do  you  know  we  could 
help  ourselves?  What  do  you  know  of  this  kind 
of  a  woman?  They're  used  to  being  treated  rough ! 
At  a  dance  they  don't  have  any  fun  at  all  till  they're 
grabbed  and  swung  over  a  man's  head !  That's  the 
kind  of  girl  she  is!  You  say  this  isn't  a  bunkum 
game — but  we  think  it  is.  How  do  you  know  that 
we're  all  wrong?  Are  you  so  everlastingly  cock 
sure,  that  you  can  go  it  blind — kick  all  your  rights 
and  ours  aside?" 

"Yes,  Ray,  I'm  very,  very  sure — that  Gordon's 
life  is  his  own  affair — and  that  now  when  his  mind 
is  perfectly  clear " 

"All  right,  all  right,  then  let  her  in !  But  it  isn't 
too  late  to  fix  this  yet!  If  one  of  us  stays  in  the 
room " 

The  thought  flashed  into'  Madge's  mind:  "So 
that's  what  they  planned  while  I  was  gone  I"  Aloud 
she  said, 

"I'm  afraid  it  can't  be  done.  I  promised  to  leave 
her  with  him  alone." 

"She  was  able  to  make  you  promise  her  that? 
Oh,  Madge — Madge!"  said  Mrs.  Dwight. 

"Yes,  Aunt  Abby!"     Madge's  voice  had  an  omi- 


MILLIONS  229 

nous  ring,  but  Ray  did  not  hear  it.  He  had  turned 
to  Uncle  Phil,  and  he  said, 

"Guess  that  proves  it,  doesn't  it?'* 

"Yes,  she  seems  to  be  after  the  money,  all  right." 

"Oh,  stop  thinking  of  money — money!"  Madge 
cried  harshly,  springing  up.  "We've  thought  of 
nothing  else  all  week!"  There  came  a  low  cry  from 
her  aunt,  but  Madge  was  confronting  the  two  men. 
"Isn't  that  why  you  came  ?"  she  asked.  "Would  you 
have  come  if  he  had  been  poor?  And  would  you 
be  so  anxious  now — about  this  girl — and  Gordon's 
morals?  Did  you  ever  care  before?" 

"Did  I  ever  care  before?"  cried  Aunt  Abby,  in  a 
loud  quivering  voice.  "You  talk  about  Gordon's 
money  to  me?  Did  I  think  of  it  when  he  was  small, 
and  I  nursed  him  time  and  time  again?  Who  taught 
him  his  prayers,  and  tried  to  make  him  see  what  is 
right  and  what  is  wrong?  You  talk  of  his  money 
bringing  me  here?" 

"Aunt  Abby !"  cried  Madge,  almost  in  tears. 

"Now  sit  down  in  that  chair  and  listen  to  me! 
Don't  just  be  ashamed  of  yourself — that's  not 
enough !  There  is  still  time  to  correct  your  mistake ! 
A  mistake,  I  call  it,  because  I  know  that  you  are  try 
ing  to  do  your  best.  But  in  these  last  days  you've 
grown  to  feel  you  know  it  all,  and  the  rest  of  us  can 


230  MILLIONS 

be  shoved  aside!  Now  you  attend  to  what  I  say! 
Gordon  has  sinned  with  this  woman !  That's  plain 
and  clear — she  doesn't  deny  it !  And  now  he's  dying 
and  you  are  about  to  let  him  sin  with  her  again! 
Instead  of  protecting  him  when  he's  weak,  and  lift 
ing  up  his  eyes  to  his  God,  you're  letting  them  turn 
to  the  carnal  charms  of  an  actress,  and  by  a  few  hot 
words  of  passion  give  her  a  claim  which  will  rob 
us  all  and  send  him  to  his  Maker  with  that  stain  upon 
his  soul !  Have  you  ever  stopped  to  think  of  that — 
of  how  he  will  feel  face  to  face  with  his  God — and 
with  his  everlasting  life?" 

Uncle  Phil  looked  at  his  watch. 

"We  haven't  time  for  that  now,"  he  said.  "What 
we've  got  to  think  about  is  a  plain  matter  of  right 
and  wrong.  What  you  seem  to  lack,  my  dear,"  he 
said  quietly  to  Madge,  "is  a  good  old-fashioned 
sense  of  family  and  family  rights.  Here's  this  lad 
risen  out  of  us — bone  of  our  bone  and  flesh  of  our 
flesh.  We  were  able  to  help  him — we  gave  him  his 
start.  In  spite  of  that,  in  the  flush  of  success,  he 
has  completely  forgotten  us  all.  Have  we  ever 
spoken  out  in  complaint?  No,  this  is  a  free  coun 
try  and  his  life  was  his  own  affair.  But  this  is  dif 
ferent — this  is  death.  You  are  not  a  physician — I 
am,  and  I  know.  I'm  telling  you  now  that,  since 


MILLIONS  231 

you  left,  his  condition  'has  grown  so  much  worse  that 
the  chances  are  at  least  ten  to  one  he  won't  live 
through  the  night.  At  such  a  time,  we  can  do  no  less 
than  try  to  prevent  you  from  letting  this  woman  rob 
you  of  what  is  rightfully  yours.  And  the  way  to 
prevent  it  is  simple  enough.  Let  her  come — let  her 
see  him — but  not  alone.  If  I  am  there,  I  assure 
you " 

"No,  Uncle  Phil."  Her  voice  was  low,  but  it 
shook  a  little  in  spite  of  herself,  as  she  faced  the 
eyes  angrily  turned  on  hers.  "I  may  be  wrong — but 
it  seems  to  me  as  clear  as  day  that  he  has  a  right  to 
see  her  alone.  All  the  more  if  he's  dying,  as  you 
say.  Doctor  Hoyt  does  not  agree  with  you  there — 
and  I  have  that  to  think  of,  too.  There  are  quite  a 
lot  of  things  that  I  have  to  think  of !"  She  stopped 
an  instant,  clinched  her  hands.  "But  each  time  I 
look  away,  at  any  other  side  of  this,  I  come  right 
back  to  where  I  was!  He  has  a  right  to  see  her 
alone  if  he  wants  it !  And  I'm  just  as  sure  he  wants 
it  as  though  I  went  and  asked  him !  But  I  will  ask 
him,  if  you  say1 " 

"I  tell  you  the  man  don't  know  what  he  wants! 
He's  half  out  of  his  mind!"  her  cousin  cried. 

"Then,  Ray,  you'll  have  to  leave  it  to  me." 

"Phil,"  said  Aunt  Abby  harshly,  "do  you  mean 


232  MILLIONS 

to  say  you  can't  go  in  that  room — just  because 
Madge  is  so  utterly  blind?" 

"No,  Aunt  Abby — he  can't  go  in,"  Madge  an 
swered,  in  a  steady  tone.  "I'm  Gordon's  sister,  and 
I'm  the  one  who  will  decide  this,  if  you  please." 

As  she  spoke,  the  door  bell  rang.  She  said, 
"Thank  Heaven,  they've  come  at  last!" — and  went 
quickly  into  the  hall. 

5 

But  Doctor  Hoyt  was  at  the  door.  He  smiled 
at  the  violent  start  she  gave. 

"How's  the  patient?" 

"Worse,  I'm  afraid!" 

"Let's  have  a  look  at  him,"  he  said. 

He  went  into  Gordon's  room,  and  after  a  brief 
examination  came  out  with  her  into  the  hall. 

"Yes,  your  brother  is  worse,"  he  said,  "but  no 
more  so  than  I  expected." 

Again  there  was  a  ring  at  the  door. 

"Oh,  wait,  please — she's  here  at  last!"  said 
Madge.  She  ran  to  the  door  and  opened  it.  "Come 
in,  please — Doctor  Hoyt  is  here !" 

Leonora  came  in,  with  Joe  behind  her. 

"Is  there  any  change?" 

"Yes — he's  worse !    Now  listen,  please !"  Madge 


MILLIONS  233 

turned  to  the  surgeon.  "I  want  you  to  tell  her, 
Doctor  Hoyt,  how  terribly  necessary  it  is  that  she 
keep  him  very  quiet  to-night !" 

"I  do  tell  you  that,  Miss  O'Brien,"  he  said.  "His 
whole  life  will  depend  on  it." 

"Very  well — I  understand.  .  .  .  But  if  he's  kept 
quiet — is  there  still  a  chance?" 

"There  is!" 

Leonora  turned  away. 

When  Hoyt  had  left,  and  Leonora  had  gone  into 
Gordon's  room,  Madge  found  herself  in  the  hall 
with  Joe  Evans. 

"Don't  you  want  me  to  stay  and  help?"  he  asked, 
with  a  glance  toward  the  living  room. 

"No,  thank  you — I'll  get  along  all  right." 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  reckon  you  will."  He  hesi 
tated,  and  took  her  hand.  "And  I  reckon  you've 
saved  Gordon's  life!  I'll  never  forget  it!" 

She  winced  and  drew  back. 

"Never  mind  me !    Good-night !"  she  said. 

When  he  was  gone,  she  stood  there  a  moment  to 
steady  herself.  When  Joe  took  her  hand,  she  had 
felt  as  though  she  wanted  to  cry.  She  waited  till 
she  was  steady  again,  and  then  went  into  the  living 
room. 

The  three  of  them  were  sitting  there  very  much 


234  MILLIONS 

as  they  had  before — Ray  at  the  window,  Uncle  Phil 
reading,  Aunt  Abby  with  her  hands  in  her  lap.  But 
Madge  felt  at  once  a  difference,  and  glancing  at 
them  she  told  herself,  "Yes,  now  that  it's  decided, 
they  will  all  be  quiet  enough.  They  hate  a  scene  as 
much  as  I."  She  sat  down,  and  in  a  moment  took 
her  knitting  from  the  table  close  by.  She  started 
to  knit;  then  abruptly  she  stopped,  her  eyes  ar 
rested,  and  with  a  grim  smile  she  scanned  her  work. 
Oh,  what  awful  work  it  was !  Dropped  stitches  and 
uneven  rows — everything  higgledy-piggledy !  As  in 
a  book,  the  record  was  here  of  her  changing  moods 
— of  her  desperate  straining  for  what  to  do,  of  the 
sudden  warm  disturbing  dreams  and  all  those  castles 
in  the  air. 

A  gentle  clicking  made  her  look  up,  and  she  saw 
that  her  Aunt  Abby  was  composedly  knitting,  too. 
She  wanted  to  look  closer  and  see  if  the  work  that 
her  aunt  had  been  doing  was  any  smoother  than  her 
own. 

"I  wonder  what  they're  thinking?"  she  asked. 
"They  can't  be  such  born  idiots  as  to  be  sure  that 
Leonora  is  going  to  act  like  a  movie  vamp.  They 
know  that  she  may  do  nothing  at  all,  and  that  Gor 
don  may  still  die  to-night.  If  he  does,  how  sjrry 
they'll  try  to  be — but  oh,  how  happy  underneath !" 


MILLIONS  235 

Aunt  Abby  dropped  her  needles  and  sat  staring 
at  the  wall. 

"No,"  thought  Madge,  with  a  twinge  of  compunc 
tion,  "it's  rotten  of  me  to  be  thinking  like  this.  If 
he  lives,  she  will  go  down  on  her  knees.  How  queer 
it  all  is.  Thank  Heaven,  I'm  through  with  my  part 
of  it.  There's  nothing  to  do  now  but  wait."  And 
she  went  on  with  her  knitting.  "Funny.  It  feels — 
all  over  now."  With  a  smile  she  felt  how  far  she 
had  dropped  in  the  regard  of  her  family.  Gone  was 
all  that  friendliness,  and  in  its  place  was  grim  con 
tempt.  "They've  put  me  down  as  a  little  fool — 
without  sense  enough  to  protect  myself."  Already 
she  could  see  how  it  would  be  when  they  all  went 
back  to  Halesburg. 

Yet  in  the  cool  dim  room,  she  knew,  might  come 
any  moment  an  event  which  would  lift  her  again 
into  the  place  where  she  had  been  the  night  be 
fore. 

At  last  the  silence  was  broken  by  Ray,  who  came 
back  from  the  window,  sat  down  and  lit  a  cigarette, 
and  picked  up  an  evening  paper.  As  his  mother 
turned  and  watched  him,  she  looked  suddenly  very 
old. 

"Phil,"  she  asked,  in  a  moment,  "how  long  do 
you  suppose  she'll  stay?" 


236  MILLIONS 

"All  night,  I  should  say,"  he  answered. 

Mrs.  Dwight  turned  to  her  son. 

"Then  I  think,  Ray,  you'd  better  go  out  and 
get  me  a  room  in  that  hotel  where  you  are  stay- 
ing." 

"No,  I  won't,  Mother—you  go  to  bed.  You  look 
all  in,"  he  answered. 

"Yes,  Aunt  Abby,"  Madge  put  in,  "do  go  and  try 
to  get  some  rest." 

Her  aunt  threw  a  quick  look  at  her,  then  began 
folding  up  her  work. 

"Rest?"  Her  voice  was  now  so  low  as  to  be 
almost  inaudible.  "A  precious  lot  of  rest  I'll  have 
— for  the  remainder  of  my  days."  She  got  up  with 
her  knitting  and  cast  a  look  toward  Gordon's  room. 
"Seems  funny  she  should  be  allowed  to  take  from 
us  what  is  ours.  I  wonder  what  God  thinks  of  such 
things?" 

And  she  went  slowly  to  her  room. 

A  little  later  Ray  took  his  departure  and  Doctor 
Cable  went  to  bed.  Neither  of  them  had  spoken 
to  Madge.  She  went  and  looked  into  Gordon's 
room,  and  saw  him  sleeping  quietly.  Leonora  sat 
by  his  side.  Closing  the  door  softly,  she  went  to 
her  own  room  and  undressed. 

"Yes,  she'll  keep  him  quiet  enough — and  he'll  be 


MILLIONS  237 

better  tomorrow,"  she  thought.  "I  wonder  why 
I  don't  seem  to  care  ?  .  .  .  Too  dead  tired — I  guess 
that's  it." 

And  a  few  minutes  later  she  was  asleep. 


CHAPTER  IX 


SHE  woke  up  late.  The  glorious  light  of  a  clear 
sunny  November  day  was  streaming  in;  the  air  was 
crisp.  For  a  time  she  lay  with  her  eyes  closed  and 
her  mind  only  half  awake,  with  mingled  feelings  of 
relief  and  rest  and  curiosity.  "I  know  he's  better. 
Now  what  next?"  Rising  up  from  deep  within  her 
she  could  feel  a  consciousness  of  some  splendid 
change  which  was  coming  in  her  own  existence ;  but 
she  could  not  put  it  in  words,  nor  did  she  even  care 
to  try.  She  got  up  and  went  into  Gordon's  room. 
Miss  Cochran  was  sitting  by  the  bed,  and  Leonora 
lay  asleep  in  a  big  chair  by  the  window.  Gordon, 
too,  was  sleeping. 

"He's  better,  isn't  he?"  whispered  Madge. 

"Oh,  yes,  Miss  Cable." 

"I'm  so  glad." 

For  a  moment  Madge  and  the  young  nurse  smiled 
at  one  another.  "What  a  gorgeous  day!"  she 
thought.  The  room  had  been  kept  dark  for  the 

sleepers,  but  through  the  curtains  fell  one  shaft  of 

238 


MILLIONS  239 

the  light  that  was  flooding  the  heavens  outside. 
Madge  looked  at  Leonora.  The  head  thrown  back 
showed  the  dark  circles  under  the  eyes.  With  relief, 
she  told  herself,  "Oh,  I'm  so  glad  I  let  her  come!" 

She  went  back  and  dressed  herself.  She  could 
hear  Aunt  Abby  in  her  room  and  Uncle  Phil  in  the 
study.  Then  the  door  bell  rang.  It  was  Ray, 
from  his  hotel  nearby.  She  remembered  his  speak 
ing  of  the  price  they  charged  him  for  his  room,  and 
she  began  to  reckon  the  cost  of  this  trip  for  Ray 
and  his  mother.  Gordon  would  probably  make  that 
right — but  she  wondered  if  they  would  accept  it  now. 
She  hoped  that  her  Aunt  Abby  would  be  more 
friendly  than  last  night. 

And  at  breakfast  she  found  that  it  was  so. 
Though  they  knew  that  Gordon  was  better  and  that 
Leonora  was  with  him  still,  in  each  of  them  Madge 
thought  she  could  feel  a  decided  change.  The  strain 
of  these  days  had  been  too  hard,  and  the  vision  too 
intense;  and  so  now,  as  the  spell  which  had  bound 
them  all  relaxed  its  hold,  each  one  appeared  to  be 
rather  relieved  to  feel  himself  slowly  slipping  back 
into  his  old  familiar  life.  "Their  eyes  look  natu 
ral,"  she  thought.  That  queer  look  was  out  of 
them.  Millions.  The  dreams  had  come  and  gone, 
and  the  hunger  hidden  in  each  breast  had  sunk  again 


240  MILLIONS 

to  its  hiding  place.  They  began  to  talk  of  going 
home. 

A  few  minutes  later,  Joe  Evans  called  up;  and 
when  she  gave  him  the  good  news,  the  sudden  joy 
of  relief  in  him  went  into  her  like  the  shaft  of 
light  which  she  had  seen  in  her  brother's  room. 

"I'll  be  up  this  afternoon,"  he  said.  "I've  got  to 
be  in  the  office  till  then — though  it  is  a  holiday." 

"A  holiday?" 

"Yes — Thanksgiving  Day!" 

She  gave  a  strained  little  laugh  and  said, 

"Well,  that  seems  to  just  fit  in !" 

She  had  hardly  left  the  telephone  when  the  doctor 
arrived.  She  asked  him  to  wait,  while  she  hurried 
into  Gordon's  room  and  awakened  the  girl  asleep 
in  the  chair.  Leonora  sat  up  with  an  anxious  start, 
but  Madge  reassured  her. 

"Doctor  Hoyt  is  here,"  she  said,  "and  I  want 
you  to  come  into  my  room.  There's  nothing  for  you 
to  worry  about,  and  you'd  better  try  to  finish  your 
sleep.  You've  been  up  all  night  and  you  look 
tired." 

"I  am,"  said  Leonora;  and  as  they  went  into 
Madge's  room  she  added,  "You'll  tell  me  what  he 
says?" 

"Of  course — but  I'm  sure  it  will  be  good  news." 


MILLIONS  241 

And  Madge  went  back  to  Doctor  Hoyt.  His 
examination  of  Gordon  was  brief. 

"Your  brother  is  so  much  stronger  now,  that  if 
he  goes  on  another  day  he'll  be  well  out  of  dan 
ger,"  he  said. 

Suddenly  to  her  surprise  Madge  felt  herself 
trembling. 

"I  want  to  thank  you,  Doctor  Hoyt,  for  giving 
me  such  good  advice." 

He  threw  a  keen  look  at  her  and  smiled. 

"Oh,  I  think  you  deserve  the  main  credit,"  he 
said. 

When  she  told  the  news  to  her  relatives,  they 
took  it  in  the  same  calm  spirit  they  had  shown  at 
breakfast.  Aunt  Abby  had  on  her  old  shoulder 
cape,  for  Ray  was  taking  her  to  church. 

"I  suppose  you'll  want  to  stay  here,  Madge." 

"Yes,  Aunt  Abby." 

"Phil,  how  about  you?    Are  you  coming?" 

"Why,  yes,  I  think  I  will." 

"That's  nice.     Better  hurry  or  we'll  be  late." 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  gone. 

"And  when  she  gets  to  church,"  thought  Madge, 
"she'll  thank  God  for  saving  Gordon's  life — and 
then  she'll  pray  that  he  be  shown  what  a  sinful  life 
he  has  been  leading.  ...  I  wonder  if  God  will 


242  MILLIONS 

hear  her  prayer?  I  wonder  if  there  is  any  God 
who  in  any  way  resembles  the  God  whom  she  be 
lieves  in?" 

Suddenly,  as  her  mind  went  back  over  the  last 
days  and  nights,  and  she  felt  again  the  grip  of  those 
dreams,  the  idea  came  that  in  all  the  confusion  and 
change  of  this  age  the  only  god  left  was  Money. 
But  she  dismissed  it  with  a  smile. 

"No,"  she  thought,  uit's  more  than  that.  Look 
at  this  queer  week  we've  spent.  It  wasn't  just 
Money  that  drove  us  mad,  but  a  Spirit  of  Dreams 
inside  of  us.  And  I  guess  that's  where  God  comes 
in — at  least,  the  one  that  I  believe  in.  He's  new 
and  vague  to  me  as  yet,  but  He  isn't  just  a  dollar 
sign.  For  it  isn't  only  Money  I  want — no,  I  want 
a  bigger  life.  And  what's  more,  I  may  get  it  still — 
money  or  no !"  She  grew  excited  at  the  idea.  "I 
may,"  she  thought,  "I  certainly  may!  This  isn't 
over  for  me  yet !  I  wonder  what  I'm  going  to  do  ?" 

2 

Then  Gordon  woke  up  and  sent  for  her.  She 
found  him  staring  up  at  the  ceiling,  as  he  had  the 
day  before ;  but  he  looked  stronger,  more  clear  eyed. 
When  he  saw  her,  he  smiled  and  reached  out  his 
hand. 


MILLIONS  243 

"Come  here — I  want  to  talk  to  you,  Madge." 

"All  right — but  you  musn't  talk  too  long." 

"Oh,  you  needn't  worry  now.  I'm  so  much  bet 
ter  than  I  was — and  I  want  you  to  know  how  I 
feel  about  this."  His  eyes  went  again  to  the  ceil 
ing,  and  she  saw  a  humorous  curl  on  his  lip.  "I've 
been  thinking  it  all  out,"  he  said.  "You  must  have 
had  a  rotten  time.  Uncle  Phil,  Aunt  Abby  and 
young  Ray — all  right  at  your  heels — on  the  trail  of 
my  money." 

She  drew  back  a  little,  and  in  a  voice  rather  cold 
she  said, 

"I  don't  think  that's  very  kind  in  you,  Gordon." 

He  turned  a  quizzical  look  on  her. 

"Maybe  not — but  it's  funny,"  he  answered. 

"I  don't  think  so !" 

All  at  once  she  felt  herself  trembling  again — and 
she  frowned.  "What's  the  matter  with  me  to-day?" 
Then  she  heard  her  brother  say, 

"For  the  fact  of  the  matter  is,  I'm  broke." 

She  made  a  quick  movement. 

"Why — what  do  you  mean?" 

"I  mean  I'm  poor.     Barely  money  to  pay  the 


rent." 


She  stared  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"Then  all  those  things  we  heard  were  lies?" 


244  MILLIONS 

"No — I  did  make  money — plenty.  In  the  big 
year  after  the  Armistice,  it  came  rolling  in  so  fast  I 
didn't  know  how  much  I  had.  But  we  couldn't  get 
out  of  ships  in  time1 — we  got  caught  with  quite  a 
fleet.  And  so,  by  the  time  of  the  accident,  we  were 
right  on  the  edge  of  a  crash.  .  .  .  Poor  old  Joe," 
said  Gordon.  "He's  had  a  terrible  time  this  week." 

"But  why "  she  turned  abruptly.  "Why 

couldn't  he  have  told  us  so?  It  would  have " 

she  checked  herself. 

"Yes,"  said  her  brother  grimly,  "it  would  have 
made  things  easier.  They  wouldn't  have  been  so 
careful  then  about  keeping  people  out  of  this  room. 
But  you  see,"  he  added,  with  a  smile,  "it's  a  kind  of 
a  religion  of  ours  to  keep  up  a  front.  If  we  don't, 
we're  gone.  The  banks  would  be  down  on  us  in  a 
minute.  And  if  Joe  had  told  you,  what  would  Uncle 
Phil  have  done?  Can't  you  see  him — insisting  at 
once  upon  an  investigation  into  every  dollar  I  have?" 

"Yes,"  said  Madge. 

"If  he  had,  it  would  have  finished  us.  And  Joe 
knew  that,  so  he  couldn't  peep.  And  there  were 
some  things  that  I  knew  and  he  didn't — and  had  to 
know — in  certain  law  suits  we  are  in.  And  here  I 
lay  like  a  log.  It  was  tough.  Joe  stood  the  gaff 
and  has  got  through;  he  says  we're  still  a  going 


MILLIONS  245, 

concern.  But  if  I  had  died,  we'd  have  busted.  See? 
Not  only  because  of  those  things  I  knew,  but  be 
cause  I've  done  the  driving — the  money  is  in  me,  so 
to  speak."  He  stopped  short.  The  effort  of 
speaking  had  caused  a  throb  of  pain  in  his  head;  but 
it  passed,  and  smiling  he  went  on,  "A  doctor  over 
in  France  once  told  me,  'Brag,  my  son.  It's  good 
for  you.'  I'm  bragging  now — and  it's  good  for  me. 
I've  got  millions  of  dollars,  Madge,  right  in  this 
little  old  head  of  mine — and  I'm  very  much  obliged, 
my  dear,  for  keeping  me  alive  as  you  did " 

"I  didn't  do  very  much,"  she  said. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  did.  I  can  see  it — the  whole  queer 
funny  week,"  he  replied,  "with  all  the  rest  of  my 
kith  and  kin  on  the  scent  of  my  millions — which  were 
gone!" 

Once  more  he  turned  on  her  his  quizzical  eyes. 

"Now  can't  you  smile  a  little,  Madge?" 

"Yes— a  little—" 

And  she  did. 

"But  it  isn't  so  very  funny — when  you  think  of 
Aunt  Abby,"  she  went  on,  "and  the  life  she  has 
had — and  what  a  change  a  little  money  would  have 
brought." 

"I  know,"  he  said.  "I've  been  pretty  rotten  to 
neglect  her  as  I  have — and  I'll  do  better  after  this 


246  MILLIONS 

— honest  I  will."  He  squeezed  her  hand.  "But 
I'd  like  to  tell  Uncle  Phil  the  joke." 

"No— don't!" 

"Why  not?  If  he  hasn't  changed,  I  think  it  will 
rather  appeal  to  him.  Uncle  Phil  used  to  have  quite 
a  sense  of  humor — nice  and  noiseless,  but  all  there. 
Where  is  he  now?" 

"They're  all  at  church." 

"What?    The  devil!    Sunday  already?" 

"No — Thanksgiving  Day,"  she  said. 

He  looked  at  her  a  moment  and  then  sharply  shut 
his  eyes. 

"Now  try  to  get  some  more  sleep,"  she  said. 
"Leonora  is  resting  in  my  room.  She  was  up  all 
night,  you  know." 

"Thanks,  Madgy.  Oh,  you've  been  so  good." 
But  as  she  rose  to  leave,  he  added,  with  a  shadow  of 
a  smile,  "Remember,  when  they  come  from  church, 
to  tell  Uncle  Phil  that  I  want  to  see  him." 

3 

Madge  came  out  of  her  brother's  room  and  sank 
limply  into  a  chair.  So  there  hadn't  been  any  money ! 

Presently  a  memory  rose  of  how  she  had  sat  here 
just  like  this  when  she  arrived.  "And  that  was  only 
Sunday  night!"  Her  mind  ran  over  the  memories. 


MILLIONS  247 

Up  and  up  and  up  she  had  soared,  into  a  new  exist 
ence.  With  a  look  of  curious  interest  now,  her  mind 
turned  in  upon  herself.  As  she  thought  of  the  de 
sires  and  dreams  which  flaming  up  had  changed  her 
in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye — had  made  her,  in  her 
fancy,  young  and  fresh  and  attractive  again,  and 
surrounded  by  admirers;  a  gracious  benefactress  to 
her  family  and  her  town ;  a  great  club  woman  in  New 
York  and  the  head  of  a  big  Fifth  Avenue  shop;  a 
leader  in  European  relief,  saving  lives  by  thousands, 
hob-nobbing  with  ministers,  kings  and  queens — 
Madge  laughed  softly  to  herself. 

"I  didn't  know  I  had  all  that  inside  of  me,"  she 
thought.  "Well,  what  shall  I  do  about  it  now? 
.  .  .  Oh,  let  it  wait." 

She  did  not  care  to  think  it  out.  She  could  feel 
herself  so  pleasantly  drifting  on  to  some  new  life — 
and  she  did  not  want  to  spoil  it  all  by  facing  the 
realities. 

She  heard  Leonora  stirring,  and  thought,  "I  sup 
pose  she  knew  it  all  along — about  his  money.  I 
wonder?"  She  went  and  ordered  breakfast  for  her, 
and  presently  the  girl  came  out.  Her  whole  expres 
sion  was  changed  to-day;  the  nervous  tension  was 
out  of  her  face. 

"Come  and  sit  with  me — won't  you,  Madge?" 


248  MILLIONS 

"Very  well— if  you  like." 

As  Madge  sat  down  at  the  table,  on  her  features 
there  had  come  the  old  mask  of  composure;  and 
over  her  coffee  Leonora  threw  a  curious  glance  at 
her. 

"I'm  sorry  for  the  way  I  acted,"  she  began  in  a 
moment.  "I  don't  see  how  you  stood  it  as  well  as 
you  did — the  way  I  tried  to  sail  right  in  and  order 
all  of  you  about.  But  you  understand  now,  don't 
you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Madge,  "I  guess  I  do.  And  I  don't 
blame  you  in  the  least." 

"I  blame  myself.  I've  been  a  young  fool.  But 
I've  learned  my  lesson  now,  all  right — and  as  soon 
as  Gordon  is  well  enough  I'll  marry  him." 

Madge  looked  quickly  up. 

"I'm  very  glad  of  that,"  she  said. 

"Not  that  I  care  about  marriage,  you  know," 
Leonora  confided,  "but  I'm  not  going  to  take  a 
chance  of  ever  being  put  again  in  any  such  position. 
It  was  pretty  tough — on  both  of  us." 

There  was  a  pause. 

"How  about  the  stage?"  asked  Madge. 

"Oh,  I  guess  I  can  make  him  see  that  now.  With 
his  business  as  it  is,  he'd  have  a  hard  time  support 
ing  me." 


MILLIONS  249 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  us  about  his  business?" 

"I  started  to — but  then  I  remembered  a  promise 
Fd  made  him — not  to  mention  it  to  a  soul.  So  I 
asked  Joe,  and  he  said,  Tor  Pete's  sake,  not  a 
word!*'  Leonora  smiled.  "So  there  we  were — 
poor  old  Joe  working  day  and  night  to  keep  alive  the 
business,  while  you  were  keeping  Gordon  alive  and 
I  was  keeping  my  play  alive.  We  seem  to  have  won, 
all  along  the  line!" 

"Yes,"  said  Madge,  "it  seems  that  way." 

Her  companion  lit  a  cigarette  and  leaned  forward 
on  her  elbow. 

"Look  here,  Madge,"  she  inquired,  "what  are  you 
going  to  do  now?" 

"Go  back,  I  guess." 

"Why  don't  you  stay  on?" 

"I  would,  if  he  were  in  any  danger — but  I  guess 
by  to-night  he'll  be  safe  enough,  and  I  think  I'll 
take  the  morning  train." 

"Why  ?  Why  not  stay  with  us  here  ?  We'd  both 
love  to  have  you — and  you  might  get  to  like  this 
town.  It  isn't  just  all  fluff,  you  know — there  are 
jobs  here  and  new  ideas  that  would  take  right  hold 
of  you.  I'll  bet  there  are  hundreds  of  women  like 
you  pouring  in  here  every  week." 

"Yes,"  said  Madge.    "I've  felt  them." 


250  MILLIONS 

"What?" 

"I've  felt  them — these  last  days  and  nights." 
Madge's  voice  was  clear  and  low.  "Girls,  women, 
all  ages  and  all  kinds.  We're  all  of  us  changing 
pretty  fast.  From  Aunt  Abby  to  what?  A  thou 
sand  things.  I  guess  I'll  be  making  some  move 
before  long.  This  has  given  me  the  shake-up  I 
needed  to  get  me  out  of  the  rut  I  was  in." 

But  as  she  went  on  to  talk  of  herself  she  felt  the 
attention  of  her  companion  slip  away,  and  so  she 
stopped.  Leonora  glanced  at  the  clock  and  rose. 

"Hello — it's  nearly  one,"  she  said,  "and  I've  got 
a  matinee.  I  must  hurry!" 

When  she  left  a  little  later,  she  said, 
"I'll  be  back  about  five.    Will  you  be  here  then?" 
"Yes,     Good-by — good  luck  to  the  play." 
Once  more  Madge  was  left  sitting  alone — but  she 
rather  enjoyed  it.     A  curious  and  intent  expression 
crept  into  her  eyes,  and  she  asked  herself, 
"What  is  it  I  am  waiting  for?" 


When  the  others  came  back  from  church,  Aunt 
Abby's  face  was  all  serene — as  though  she  had 
found  peace  again  and  were  ready  to  go  on  with  her 


MILLIONS  251 

life.  She  went  into  her  room  to  take  off  her  cape, 
and  then  Uncle  Phil  inquired, 

"Has  Miss  O'Brien  gone  yet,  Madge?" 

"Yes."  Madge  hesitated,  and  said,  "She  has 
made  up  her  mind  to  marry  him  now." 

Doctor  Cable  smiled  a  bit. 

"I  supposed  she  would,"  he  said. 

"Now  he's  thinking  of  the  money  again,"  Madge 
told  herself.  And  aloud  she  said, 

"Gordon  wants  to  see  you,  Uncle." 

"Very  well." 

And  he  went  into  Gordon's  room.  He  left  the 
door  open.  From  where  she  sat,  she  could  just  hear 
the  sound  of  their  voices.  "I  wonder  how  he'll  take 
it?"  she  asked.  After  all,  it  was  not  easy.  Pretty 
awkward — pretty  grim.  But  when  he  came  out  a 
few  minutes  later,  she  caught  in  her  uncle's  hard 
blue  eyes  a  gleam  of  relish. 

"Ray,"  he  said,  "come  in  here,  please." 

They  went  into  the  study.  This  time  Doctor 
Cable  shut  the  door,  and  Madge  heard  nothing;  but 
when  they  came  out,  Ray  went  straight  to  the  tele 
phone,  and  she  heard  her  uncle  say, 

"Ray  is  finding  out  about  trains." 

She  smiled  a  little,  in  spite  of  herself.  Ray  was 
always  practical ! 


252  MILLIONS 

"I  think  there  is  one  about  three  o'clock,"  Uncle 
Phil  continued.  "I'll  go  and  speak  to  your  Aunt 
Abby.  Gordon  is  out  of  danger  now,  and  I  see  no 
need  of  our  staying  here  any  longer.  Will  you 
come  along?" 

"No,  I'll  wait  till  to-morrow,"  she  said. 

He  gave  his  niece  a  queer  little  look  as  though 
asking,  "How  much  did  you  know  about  this?"  For 
a  moment  she  thought  he  was  going  to  speak;  but 
Aunt  Abby  came  in  just  then,  and  Ray  came  back 
from  the  telephone;  and  while  he  was  telling  his 
mother  that  there  was  a  train  at  three  twenty-five, 
old  Abe  appeared,  to  say  dinner  was  ready.  Over 
the  face  of  Uncle  Phil  crept  a  quiet  ironical  smile. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "we  can  sit  down  to  a  good  old- 
fashioned  Thanksgiving  Dinner." 

And  some  faint  semblance  of  that  smile  was  still 
lurking  on  his  lips,  as  at  table  he  bowed  his  head 
and  said,  "For  what  we  are  about  to  receive  may 
the  good  Lord  make  us  thankful."  A  moment's 
silence.  Then  raising  her  eyes  Madge  saw  that  her 
aunt's  were  glistening. 

"Oh,  what  a  blessed  relief  it  is!"  said  Aunt  Abby 
softly.  "I'll  be  so  glad  to  get  back  home !" 

"And  she  means  it — every  word,"  thought 
Madge.  But  as  they  began  talking  of  home  affairs, 


MILLIONS  253 

there  came  to  her  a  realization  of  what  they  would 
all  have  to  face  when  they  got  back  to  Halesburg. 
"So  you  missed  the  money,  eh?"  Nobody  would 
say  it  in  so  many  words,  but  everyone  would  look  it. 
"It  won't  be  easy,"  she  told  herself.  She  guessed 
that  the  same  unpleasant  thought  was  running 
through  their  minds  as  well;  and  she  could  feel  all 
three  of  them,  each  in  his  own  way,  beginning  to 
get  ready  just  quietly  to  face  it  out.  For  a  moment 
she  rather  admired  them — but  abruptly  her  thoughts 
came  to  herself.  "And  how  about  me  ?"  Their  share 
of  the  silent  derision  would  be  as  nothing  com 
pared  to  her  own.  She  grew  a  little  sick  at  the 
prospect. 

"What  are  your  plans,  Madge?"  her  uncle  in 
quired. 

She  looked  up  and  caught  them  watching  her — not 
at  all  maliciously,  but  with  a  pity  which  was  worse. 
It  said  so  plainly,  "Poor  old  Madgy.  Back  to  the 
store,  and  to  the  flat." 

"Why,  I  hadn't  thought  about  it,"  she  said.  "I 
don't  know  yet  just  what  I'll  do — but  I'll  be  coming 
home  to-morrow,  I  think,  by  the  first  train.  Do  you 
happen  to  have  a  time  table,  Ray?" 

"Yes — sure — I'll  look  up  a  train,"  he  said  kindly. 

After  dinner,  they  were  soon  ready  to  start. 


254  MILLIONS 

"Good-by,  Madgy — see  you  soon,"  said  Ray. 
"There's  a  train  to-morrow  at  eight." 

"Thank  you,  Ray.     Good-by,  Auntie." 

"Good-by,  my  dear  child — God  bless  you!" 
Aunt  Abby  kissed  her  suddenly. 

"Come  in  for  supper  Sunday  night,  my  dear," 
said  her  uncle,  gripping  her  hand. 

"Thanks,  Uncle,  I  will." 

But  she  smiled  at  that.  She  had  gone  there  for 
supper  on  Sunday  night  for  so  many,  many  years. 

"And  it  will  be  worse  now,"  she  reflected,  when 
'the  door  had  closed  behind  them.  She  stood  star 
ing.  "Yes,  it  will  be  pretty  awful — in  their  homes 
and  at  the  store  and  on  th£  street — wherever  I  go." 

For  a  time  jn  her  fancy  she  saw  herself  doing  the 
old  familiar  things,  and  just  how  awful  it  would  be. 
What  a  drop  from  the  grand  vistas  which  had  opened 
up  this  week!  Worse  than  before,  a  hundred  times ! 
.  .  .  But  as  she  stood  there,  into  her  face  crept  a 
curious  look  of  surprise.  For  the  first  dismay  had 
passed  so  quickly.  It  seemed  to  have  no  hold,  all 
that — as  though  in  reality  she  would  not  have  to 
face  it  at  all.  Well  then,  why  not?  But  she  did 
not  try  to  answer.  It  was  so  much  pleasanter  just 
to  let  herself  drift  along  with  this  vague  anticipation, 
without  risking  its  collapse  by  examining  it  too  soon. 


MILLIONS  255 

5 

She  heard  a  key  turned  in  the  door  outside,  and 
her  pulse  began  to  quicken.  "Oh,  what  a  little  fool 
you  are.  There's  nothing  in  that,"  she  told  herself; 
and  she  rose  as  Joe  Evans  came  into  the  room. 

"Hello,"  he  said,  with  a  friendly  smile.  "Gor 
don  still  coming  along  in  good  shape?" 

"Yes,"  she  replied.    "He's  sleeping  now,  I  think." 

As  she  looked  at  Joe,  she  pitied  him  for  the  way 
he  would  feel  when  he  learned  that  Gordon  was 
to  be  married.  But  it  was  not  only  pity  she  felt — 
there  was  suspense  and  excitement,  too. 

"Where  are  the  others?"  he  inquired. 

"All  gone  home  to  Halesburg.J' 

Joe's  satisfaction  was  quite  plain. 

"And  is  Leonora  here?" 

"No — she's  at  the  theatre.  Thanksgiving  matinee, 
you  know." 

He  gave  a  little  laugh  and  said, 

"Well,  Miss  Cable,  thank  God  for  you!  If  it 
hadn't  been  for  the  way  that  you  came  through  for 
us  last  night,  I  reckon  he  wouldn't  be  living  now. 
But  it  wasn't  any  surprise  to  me.  From  that  first 
night  I  found  you  here,  I  knew  we-all  could  count 
on  you." 


256  MILLIONS 

"Oh,  please!"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  as  Joe 
stood  smiling  down  at  her.  "It's  over  now!"  And 
then,  in  a  more  natural  tone,  "How  splendidly  it 
has  all  turned  out.  Sit  down,  please.  Don't  you 
want  to  smoke?" 

When  he  was  comfortably  settled  in  a  big  chair 
with  a  cigarette,  she  asked, 

"How's  the  business  getting  on  now?" 

Joe  threw  a  quizzical  look  at  her. 

"Has  Gordy  told  you  about  that?" 

"Yes,  but  not  your  side  of  it." 

And  soon  she  had  him  telling  her  about  the  fight 
he  had  made  alone.  He  had  barely  left  the  office, 
he  said;  one  night  he  had  stayed  there  and  slept  in 
his  clothes.  She  listened  with  a  look  intent.  She 
had  picked  up  her  knitting  now  and  her  needles  were 
working  rapidly.  Again  she  wondered  how  he  would 
feel  at  the  news  that  Gordon  was  to  be  married. 
He  had  so  few  interests,  so  few  friends.  For  a  mo 
ment  she  had  a  revealing  sense  of  his  spirit  grop 
ing  on  through  the  various  stages  of  his  life.  Money 
— then  more  money.  Would  he  grow  accustomed  to 
city  life?  No.  She  remembered  his  dream  of  a 
ranch,  as  soon  as  he  got  money  enough.  Would  he 
go  alone  or  with  a  wife?  Just  for  a  minute  a  pic 
ture  rose  of  a  man  and  a  woman  riding  at  dusk 


MILLIONS  257 

over  a  stretch  of  rolling  upland,  with  a  big  round 
yellow  moon  rising  over  the  rim  of  the  hills.  And 
she  heard  his  deep  soft  Southern  voice  singing  a 
prairie  lullaby  to  the  huge  beasts  that  he  called  "lit 
tle  doggies."  Sharply  she  drew  in  her  breath  and 
went  on  knitting,  with  a  frown.  .  .  .  But  all  this 
time  she  had  kept  him  talking,  by  the  questions  that 
she  asked,  in  a  voice  low  and  sympathetic. 

"It  must  have  been  pretty  awful,"  she  said.  "I 
wish  I  could  have  helped  you." 

"You  help  me?"  he  retorted.  "I  reckon  it's  just 
the  other  way.  I  mean  that  I've  been  telling  you 
this  so  you  won't  put  me  down  as  a  slacker  for 
keeping  away  as  much  as  I  did — instead  of  being 
here  helping  you — to  clear  up  this  Leonora  busi- 


ness." 


"Well,  it's  cleared  up  now,"  said  Madge.  She 
kept  her  eyes  upon  her  work.  "She  says  she's  go 
ing  to  marry  him." 

For  a  moment  Joe  said  nothing,  but  trembling  she 
could  feel  the  news  go  into  him  with  a  stab  of  pain. 

"She  told  you  that?"  he  asked.    "How  soon?" 

"As  soon  as  he  is  strong  enough." 

Again  there  was  a  silence. 

"I  knew  they'd  come  to  it,"  he  said. 

"You  mustn't  let  that  separate  you  and  Gordon," 


258  MILLIONS 

she  replied.     "The  feeling  you  two  men  have  for 
each  other — well,  it's  pretty  wonderful." 

"Yes,"  he  said.    And  after  a  pause,  "It'll  never 
be  the  same  again." 

"Where  will  you  live?"  she  asked  him. 

"Oh,  in  some  hotel,  I  guess." 

"What  a  pity." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"It's  a  poor  way  of  living,  it  seems  to  me.  I  should 
think  you'd  get  mighty  sick  of  it." 

"Yes,"  he  said,  discouragedly,  "I  reckon  I  will." 

"Then  why  do  it?"  she  asked,  with  a  cheerful  air. 
"Why  don't  you  get  a  man  or  two  to  live  with  you, 
in  a  nice  little  house,  with  a  woman  to  take  care  of 
you  all?" 

"I  haven't  many  friends,"  he  said.  "I've  only 
been  here  three  or  four  years — and  I  reckon  you 
don't  quite  realize  what  life  in  this  city  can  be  like. 
It's  not  like  a  small  town,  where  you  get  to  know 
people."  She  flushed  at  this,  but  he  did  not  notice. 
"You  can  keep  to  yourself  and  nobody  cares.  That's 
the  way  I've  found  it." 

"But  you  haven't  been  here  long,"  she  retorted, 
rather  sharply,  "and  I  feel  so  sure  that  life  in  New 
York  can  be  anything  you  choose  to  make  it.  There's 
something  quite  thrilling  to  me  in  that.  If  I  were 


MILLIONS  259 

here  I'd  want  to  make  friends — and  go  about  and 
see  things — try  things  I"  She  caught  a  curious  look 
in  his  eyes.  "Now  he's  a  little  surprised  1"  she 
thought. 

"How  do  you  mean?"  she  heard  him  ask.  She 
frowned.  She  did  not  know,  exactly.  Besides,  she 
was  finding  it  rather  hard  to  keep  cool  and  to  think 
clearly. 

"Oh,  it  isn't  easy  to  put  it  in  words.  But  with 
so  many  millions  of  people  here — all  sorts  and  kinds 
— Americans  and  foreigners — people  making  money 
fast  and  throwing  it  all  over  the  place — then  losing 
it — all  ups  and  downs — there  must  be  some  funny 
specimens  here,  who  would  make  you  scream  with 
laughter — and  others  who  would  make  you  cry. 
Some  who  don't  care  for  money  at  all — people  with 
queer  dreams  inside.  People  who  would  make  won 
derful  friends.  And  very  lonely  people,  too."  In 
the  silence  she  felt  how  that  sank  in.  "Yes,"  she 
ended,  "I'd  want  friends  if  I  were  here." 

"I  reckon  you'd  have  'em !' 

The  way  he  said  that  made  something  leap  inside 
of  her ;  but  she  kept  her  eyes  on  her  work  and  said, 
in  a  voice  even  and  composed, 

"And  then  I'd  want  to  do  things,  too." 

And  she  began  to  confide  to  him  how  she  had 


260  MILLIONS 

dreamed  of  a  business  career.  But  presently  she 
heard  him  say, 

"It  doesn't  seem  jest  the  life  for  a  woman.  I 
guess  I'm  old  fashioned  about  such  things — havin' 
been  raised  in  Tennessee.  But  women  who  get  into 
business  life — well,  I've  seen  quite  a  few  in  this 
town — and  it  seems  to  kind  of  harden  'em." 

"Oh,"  said  Madge,  "they  needn't  stick  to  it  all 
their  lives — but  I've  always  thought  a  girl  ought  to 
know  things  at  first  hand.  She  may  marry  later. 
All  right.  But  then  at  least  she  could  be  a  real  help 
to  her  husband — understand  his  troubles  better — 
help  him  at  times." 

"Yes,"  he  agreed,  "that's  different.  For  a  girl 
to  take  a  job  for  a  while,  and  learn  a  few  things — 
while  she's  still  young — • — " 

Madge  caught  her  breath.  "I  see,"  she  thought, 
"but  I'm  not  young!"  Aloud  she  said,  decisively, 
"Well,  I'm  glad  I  took  a  job — and  I  mean  to  keep 
right  on  with  it,  too !" 

"You  mean  you'll  be  going  back?"  he  asked,  as 
though  that  were  taken  for  granted. 

"Oh,  yes — to-morrow,"  she  replied. 

The  depression  on  his  face  increased. 

"I  hoped  you'd  be  stayin'  on  a  while." 

"No,  I  think  I'd  better  go.    So  you  can  come  back 


MILLIONS  261 

here  to-morrow,  you  see,  and  you  two  men  can  be 
together." 

"I  reckon  that  won't  be  long,"  he  replied. 

As  he  talked  on,  she  could  feel  his  thoughts  cen 
ter  more  and  more  upon  his  coming  loneliness.  And 
she  let  them.  In  a  voice  again  low  and  sympa 
thetic,  every  question  that  she  asked  made  more 
clear  the  picture  of  a  dreary  bachelor  life. 

Presently  he  rose  to  leave. 

"May  I  come  for  supper  to-night?"  he  asked. 

"Why  yes,  if  you  like.  I'd  be  pleased  to  have 
you,"  she  said,  in  a  stilted  little  tone. 

When  he  had  gone,  she  stood  there  with  a  look  of 
fast  deepening  dismay,  as  she  tried  to  remember  all 
she  had  said. 

"You  little  fool !"  she  exclaimed  to  herself,  flushed 
and  angry.  "For  Heaven's  sake  let's  come  to  our 
senses!  It's  about  time  all  this  queerness  stopped! 
What  I  want  is  to  get  right  back  to  what  I  know 
— to  where  I  belong!" 


CHAPTER  X 


SHE  looked  in  for  a  moment  on  Gordon  but  found 
that  he  was  still  asleep.  Then  she  went  into  her 
own  room  and  began  getting  her  things  together. 
There  was  no  need  of  packing  yet,  but  she  wanted 
something  to  do.  She  did  not  get  very  far,  however, 
for  in  the  top  bureau  drawer  she  found  a  letter  from 
her  friend,  Amanda  Berry.  It  had  come  the  day 
before.  She  had  not  stopped  to  read  it  then;  but 
she  sat  down  and  read  it  now — quickly  at  first,  and 
then  very  slowly  a  second  time.  And  as  she  read, 
her  expression  changed. 

"That's  funny.  I  never  stopped  to  ask  what  she 
must  be  thinking  of  all  this." 

But  she  guessed  now,  reading  between  the  lines, 
for  she  knew  her  friend  so  well.  The  letter  was 
careful,  to  a  degree.  Obviously  Amanda  had 
jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  Gordon  would  die,  and 
that  with  all  his  money  Madge  would  rapidly  drift 
away. 

"She  knew  I'd  never  stay  at  home.    She  knew  I'd 
262 


MILLIONS  263 

offer  to  take  her  along,  but  she  had  already  made  up 
her  mind  that  she  would  not  accept  it."  Amanda 
was  so  fearfully  proud  and  independent.  More  and 
more  Madge  realized  how  blue  and  lonely  her 
friend  must  have  been.  And  the  knowledge  brought 
a  pleasant  glow.  Here  at  last  was  somebody  who 
wanted  her,  and  the  effect  was  like  a  tonic.  All  day 
Madge  had  felt  herself  slowly,  slowly  slumping  back 
to  what  she  had  been  a  week  before ;  and  she  had  not 
fought  against  it.  It  had  not  felt  real  enough  to 
fight.  Still  in  a  dream,  she  had  drifted  on.  But 
her  talk  with  Joe  had  sent  the  dream  flying  up  into 
thin  air,  and  now  Amanda's  letter  brought  her 
sharply  back  to  earth.  She  woke  up  and  faced  the 
situation  with  clear  and  interested  eyes. 

"Now  how  about  Amanda  and  me  ?  Gordon  didn't 
die,  thank  God,  and  I'm  not  an  heiress,"  she  thought. 
"But  I've  had  the  shake  up  I  needed,  and  I'm  going 
to  stop  this  holding  back!" 

Into  her  mind  flashed  memories  of  how,  repeat 
edly  in  the  last  year,  Amanda  had  brought  up  the 
plan  for  spending  a  year  or  so  abroad,  working  for 
Hoover.  But  Madge  had  held  back.  In  vain  her 
friend  had  warned  her  of  the  rut  they  were  getting 
into,  and  from  which  they  would  soon  be  too  old 
to  escape.  Though  again  and  again  her  imagination 


264  MILLIONS 

had  been  stirred  by  the  pictures  of  the  roving  life 
they  might  lead  in  various  countries  over  seas, 
in  quaint  old  towns  and  villages;  of  the  service  they 
might  render,  the  adventures  they  might  find — still 
some  obdurate,  cautious  common  sense  within  her 
self  had  kept  making  objections.  The  whole  idea 
was  too  strange  and  wild — impossible !  Amanda  had 
replied  by  action.  Having  done  splendid  work  her 
self  in  the  food  campaign  during  the  war,  she  had 
applied  to  the  "A.  R.  A.,"  had  entered  their  names 
on  the  waiting  list,  and  by  repeated  letters  had  done 
all  she  could  to  keep  the  way  open.  Good  for 
Amanda !  Madge  made  up  her  mind  that  now  she 
would  help,  and  between  them  they  would  scheme 
and  contrive  until  they  were  given  the  chance  to  go. 

"We'll  get  off  just  as  soon  as  we  can !"  she  decided. 
"When  I  get  home  to-morrow,  I'll  tell  her  and  we'll 
start  right  in !" 

She  could  see  already  in  fancy  the  sudden  joy  on 
the  face  of  her  room-mate,  as  she  cried,  "Three 
cheers  for  our  little  Madge!"  Then  they  would 
plan  excitedly,  talking  on  late  into  the  night;  and 
when  at  last  they  went  to  bed,  into  her  room  her 
friend  would  come  and  sit  down  and  begin  to  ask 
her  about  this  visit  to  New  York.  And  so  the  talk 
would  begin  again.  With  eager  questions,  long  re- 


MILLIONS  265 

plies,  over  it  all  from  start  to  finish  they  would  go. 
What  a  grim,  amazing  time !  Up  and  up  to  millions 
— visions — then  plump  down  again  to  earth!  "All 
right,  Little  One,  never  you  mind!"  she  could  hear 
the  deep  voice  of  her  huge  friend.  "Money  isn't 
the  only  way  of  breaking  loose  from  Halesburg. 
Just  watch  us  now !"  And  back  they  would  come  to 
their  scheming.  In  dreams,  again  they  would  soar 
away  over  the  seas.  At  last,  as  Amanda  rose  to  go, 
"Hold  on !  Look  here !"  she  would  exclaim,  in 
tragic  fashion.  "WeVe  completely  forgotten  to  de 
cide  what  we'll  do  with  the  rest  of  our  lives — when 
we  get  back  home  from  Europe !" 

"Amanda  Berry,  you  go  to  bed  I" 

But  Madge  let  herself  think  of  that  now.  Where 
would  they  go  when  they  got  back?  Halesburg? 
No.  New  York?  Perhaps.  "Or  San  Francisco — or 
Hindustan  or  Cochin-China !"  she  decided  recklessly. 
"The  main  thing  is,  we'll  be  out  of  our  ruts,  and  we'll 
never  get  back  in  'em  again!"  Just  for  an  instant, 
in  a  flash,  a  conception  came  to  her  of  a  whole  na 
tion,  a  whole  world,  seething  with  change  and  chang 
ing  lives  from  one  end  to  the  other — people  alone 
or  in  little  groups  or  in  prodigious  masses,  rapidly 
and  unconsciously  dropping  behind  them  old  ideas, 
beliefs  and  standards,  adventuring  on  into  strange 


266  MILLIONS 

new  dreams  of  living.  "And  weVe  been  left  out  of 
it  all,"  she  thought,  "just  left  on  a  shelf — betwixt 
and  between — in  a  flat  up  over  a  furniture  store. 
And  don't  forget  those  varnished  stairs!"  How 
she  had  detested  them — shiny,  sticky,  cheap  and 
new!  Home?  Their  home  had  been  a  joke! 

"But,  on  the  other  hand,"  she  thought,  "thank 
God,  I  didn't  marry  a  man,  and  get  anchored  down 
for  life  1" 


When  Leonora,  a  little  later,  came  back  from  the 
theatre,  she  found  a  different  woman  here.  But  at 
first  she  did  not  notice  it.  Her  play  had  gone  well 
that  afternoon,  and  she  knew  that  her  lover  was 
safe;  and  engrossed  in  her  own  happiness,  she  went 
in  to  sit  by  his  bed. 

"I  can  only  be  here  an  hour  or  so,"  she  said 
to  Madge.  "On  matinee  days  I  usually  stay  at  the 
theatre  and  rest  and  have  some  supper  there — but 
to-night  I  don't  seem  to  want  any  rest!"  And  she 
added,  with  a  little  laugh,  "I  just  couldn't  keep 
away!" 

"You  go  right  in  to  him,"  said  Madge,  "and 
when  supper  is  ready  I'll  let  you  know." 

Old  Abe  was  out  for  the  afternoon,  so  she  pre- 


MILLIONS  267 

pared  a  light  supper  herself,  and  later  sat  with 
Leonora  while  the  girl  ate  rapidly. 

"Is  the  play  still  picking  up?"  asked  Madge. 

"Yes,  it  took  a  jump  to-day.  We  played  to  over 
a  thousand  dollars — nice  little  chinky  iron  men. 
It's  Thanksgiving  Day,  of  course,  and  the  business 
will  fall  off  again.  Still,  we're  pretty  sure  of  it  now." 

"I'm  glad,"  said  Madge.  "You've  certainly 
worked  for  it  hard  enough." 

"Yes."  Over  a  large  cup  of  coffee,  Leonora 
smiled  at  her  and  said,  "That's  something  you 
learned  about  me  last  night." 

"I  did "  with  a  quick,  responsive  smile.  "I 

never  thought  of  actresses  before  as  working 
women."  Madge  hesitated,  then  went  on:  "But  I 
wonder  if  you've  ever  learned  what  a  lot  of  other 
things  there  are  for  women  to  work  at,  in  these 
days." 

"I  suppose  so,"  Leonora  said.  But  watching 
the  absent-minded  look  which  came  in  her  eyes, 
Madge  reflected,  "How  utterly  wrapped  up  in  them 
selves  these  stage  people  are  I"  Aloud  she  inquired, 
cheerfully, 

"Have  you  made  any  plans  about  getting  mar 
ried?" 

"No." 


268  MILLIONS 

Madge  grew  curious. 

"Will  you  be  married  in  church?"  she  asked. 

"Oh,  I  don't  believe  so " 

"Where,  then?  Have  you  any  home  or  relatives 
here?" 

"No,  thank  God!"  With  a  sharp  little  smile. 
"No,  I  live  in  a  hotel.  And  I  guess  we'll  just  go  to 
the  City  Hall,  or  wherever  it  is — and  get  married, 
that's  all — tell  the  taxi-man  to  wait  outside." 

"I  see,"  said  Madge,  and  there  was  a  pause. 
"Tell  me.  Where  did  you  come  from?"  she  asked, 
with  a  curious  gleam  in  her  eyes. 

"From  Paris." 

"Wha-at?" 

Leonora  laughed. 

"Paris,  Delaware,"  she  said.  "It  was  a  rotten 
little  town.  Poor?  They  don't  make  such  poverty 
now  as  I  was  up  against  when  I  was  small.  And 
strict?  My  God.  We  were  Catholics." 

The  interest  in  Madge's  face  grew  brighter,  as 
she  inquired, 

"Don't  you  ever  get  the  feeling  of  living  some 
how  betwixt  and  between?" 

A  puzzled  look.     "How  do  you  mean?" 

"Why,  take  my  case."  And  in  a  few  words  Madge 
rapidly  drew  the  picture — of  the  lovely  old  frame 


MILLIONS  269 

house  by  the  river,  where  she  was  born,  and  then 
of  Hale  and  Pritchett's  store  and  the  cheap  flat 
with  the  varnished  stairs,  and  the  swiftly  changing 
life  in  her  town.  "And  I'll  bet,"  she  ended,  "that 
there  are  millions  of  us  like  that." 

Leonora  looked  a  little  blank. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  there  are,"  she  said.  "I'd  never 
stopped  to  think  of  it,  though.  In  my  own  case 
I've  changed  so  fast  I  haven't  had  time  for  a 
single  think !  A  week  ago,  I  could  have  sworn  that 
I  would  never  give  up  the  stage.  I  may  now.  In 
a  few  years  more " 

"When  Gordon  is  worth  millions,"  put  in  Madge, 
with  a  quick  smile. 

"Exactly,"  Leonora  said. 

"And  meanwhile  you'll  come  here  to  live." 

"I  gUess  so " 

"After  the  taxi-man  has  brought  you  up  from 
City  Hall." 

"That's  it,"  said  Leonora,  smiling.  "But  look — 
have  you  thought  over  what  I  said  this  morning? 
Don't  you  want  to  stay  with  us?" 

"No,"  said  Madge,  "I've  plans  of  my  own." 

And  she  noted  with  satisfaction  Leonora's  blank 
surprise,  as  she  told  of  her  plan  for  going  abroad. 
For  several  minutes  she  talked  on,  with  her  com- 


270  MILLIONS 

panion  throwing  in  friendly  questions  from  time  to 
time.  Then  the  girl's  thoughts  came  back  to 
herself. 

"I  wish  Gordy   and   I   could  go,"   she   sighed. 
"But  I  guess  it's  just  work  for  months  ahead.  .  .  . 
Hello,  it's  nearly  seven  o'clock.     I  must  be  off  to 
the  theatre  soon." 

She  went  back  into  Gordon's  room  for  a  while, 
then  came  out  and  got  ready  to  leave. 

At  the  door  in  the  hall,  she  took  Madge's  hand. 

"Good  luck,"  she  said,  uand  thanks  again,  a  thou 
sand  times,  for  what  you  did  for  us  last  night!  I 
don't  suppose  I'll  see  you  again " 

"No,  I  leave  to-morrow  early." 

"Well,  when  you're  ready  to  start  abroad,  come 
rdown  here  a  few  days  ahead — and  let's  have  a 
spree — and  another  think!" 

"All  right,  I'll  do  it!  Good-bye  and  good 
luck!" 

For  a  time  Madge  sat  alone  again,  now  and  then 
smiling  to  herself. 

"I  wonder  if  we'll  go  to  Russia  ?"  she  asked.  Sud 
denly  the  smile  died  out.  "Oh,  how  I'd  like  to  just 
pitch  in  and  work  my  fingers  off,"  she  thought, 
"ladling  balanced  rations'  into  the  stomachs  of 
little  boys!" 


MILLIONS  271 

3 

Then  Joe  Evans  came  to  supper. 

"Abe  is  out,"  she  told  him,  "and  we'll  have  to 
get  supper  ourselves.  Do  you  mind?" 

"No — not  at  all,"  he  answered. 

Joe  was  looking  very  glum.  "He's  thinking  of 
his  future  life,"  she  thought,  with  satisfaction.  But 
then  with  a  gleam  of  compassion,  "He's  blue,  poor 
boy,  and  he  needs  cheering  up."  In  the  kitchen  she 
exerted  herself  to  change  his  mood.  She  had  always 
been  an  excellent  cook;  and  now  as  she  ordered  him 
about,  and  the  appetizing  odors  of  bacon,  eggs  and 
coffee  rose,  he  began  to  grow  visibly  hungry;  and 
when  they  sat  down  to  supper,  he  looked  at  Madge 
with  different  eyes. 

"Are  you  still  going  back  to-morrow?"  he  asked. 

"Yes " 

"Why  don't  you  try  New  York  for  a  while?" 

"I  may,  some  day,"  she  answered,  "but  I'm  plan 
ning  now  to  go  abroad." 

"What?    Your 

"Exactly.    Me." 

And  she  began  calmly  to  outline  her  plan.  As 
she  talked,  her  animation  increased,  for  glancing  now 
and  then  at  his  face  she  read  his  surprise  and 
interest.  Madge  broke  off  with  a  little  laugh. 


272  MILLIONS 

"Now  be  honest,"  she  said,  "and  confess.  You 
thought  me  the  kind  of  girl — woman,  I  mean — who 
was  fixed  for  life.  You  thought  I  would  go  right 
back  to  my  corner,  didn't  you?  And  that,"  she  went 
on,  "is  exactly  what  I  would  have  done,  if  it  hadn't 
been  such  a  tremendous  shake  up  that  I've  had  this 
week.  We've  both  had  it,  you  and  I — and  I  pro 
pose  to  make  mine  count — and  I  advise  you  to  do 
the  same.  We've  both  been  jerked  right  out  of 
our  lives — and  it's  just  as  though  a  great  big  voice 
from  up  in  the  sky  were  saying  to  us  quietly,  'Look 
around  you.  Start  again.'  .  .  .  Well,  I  mean  to 
do  it!" 

As  Joe  listened  to  all  this,  the  astonishment  was 
still  in  his  eyes. 

"But,"  he  said,  "you're  not  going  to  stay  abroad 
all  your  life " 

"No,  I  don't  suppose  I  shall.  We  may  come 
right  here  to  New  York,  for  all  I  know,"  was  her 
brisk  reply.  "If  we  do,  Amanda  and  I  will  look 
around  us  and  get  jobs  and  then  rent  a  little  flat. 
But  it  won't  have  any  varnished  stairs!  Shiny, 
sticky,  smelly  things " 

"May  I  come  and  see  you?"  he  put  in. 

"Oh,  yes,  and  we'll  ask  you  to  supper  at  times — 
when  we're  feeling  good  and  prosperous.  And  you 


MILLIONS  273 

can  take  me  once  in  a  while  to  the  opera,  if  you 
care  to.  Unless,"  she  added  quickly,  "you've  gone 
out  to  your  ranch  by  then." 

"Oh,  I  reckon  I  won't  be  going  for  a  few  years 
yet,"  he  said. 

"Then,"  she  answered  cheerfully,  "we  may  get 
here  before  you  leave.  On  the  other  hand,  Amanda 
and  I  may  decide  we  don't  want  to  come  home  at 
all.  We  may  decide  to  settle  down  in  Moscow  or 
in  Petrograd." 

"And  be  regular  Bolsheviks !"  said  Joe. 

"We  may,"  was  her  prompt  rejoinder.  "I  can't 
say  I  feel  much  like  it  now — but  you  never  can  tell 
what  you'll  be,  these  days.  If  you  try  to  look  a 
year  ahead " 

"Look  here,"  said  Joe,  earnestly,  "I  think  you're 
making  a  big  mistake  to  go  running  'way  over  to 
Russia — after  a  lot  of  Bolsheviks.  Fine  thing  to 
feed  the  kids,  of  course — but  there  are  kids  enough, 
God  knows,  right  here  in  New  York,  who  are  dying 
like  flies — jest  for  the  lack  of  a  little  help  from  a 
woman  like  you." 

"That's  so,"  she  answered  gravely.  "And  while 
Tm  gone,  if  I  were  you  I'd  take  a  boy's  club — do 
your  bit.  It  would  help  to  fill  your  evenings." 

His  reply  to  that  was  a  kind  of  a  snort. 


274  MILLIONS 

"But  speaking  of  evenings,"  she  went  on,  with 
a  sudden  glance  at  the  clock.  She  was  just  on  the 
point  of  asking,  "What  are  we  going  to  do  to-night, 
to  celebrate  Gordon's  recovery?"  But  her  glance 
fell  on  the  nurse,  Miss  Field,  who  had  appeared  in 
the  doorway. 

"Mr.  Cable  would  like  to  see  you  now,"  said  the 
nurse  to  Joe.  "He's  awake  again." 

"All  right,"  said  Joe,  reluctantly  rising.  "You'll 
be  here  this  evening,  I  suppose,"  he  added,  to 
Madge,  with  a  new  intension  in  his  tone. 

"Oh,  yes.     I  have  my  packing  to  do." 

But  while  she  was  attending  to  that,  in  her  room, 
which  had  been  Joe's,  once  more  her  eye  was  caught 
by  the  small  envelope  on  his  desk.  Two  tickets  to 
the  opera !  She  remembered  they  were  for  to 
night!  For  a  moment,  growing  a  little  excited,  she 
wondered  whether  to  ask  him  to  take  her. 

"No,"  she  thought.  "Gordon  wants  him  here. 
.  .  .  Besides,"  she  added,  suddenly,  "I  think  I'd 
rather  go  alone !"  She  looked  at  the  clock.  It  was 
nearly  nine.  "Never  mind — it  lasts  for  ages — and 
I've  always  been  dying  to  hear  Louise!"  A  little 
later  she  was  deciding  whether  or  not  to  change  her 
clothes.  "No,  I  haven't  anything  worth  putting 
on.  And  besides,  what  difference  does  it  make?" 


MILLIONS  275 

Breathlessly  she  tidied  her  hair  and  put  on  her 
hat  and  jacket.  Then  she  slipped  quickly  out  of 
the  room.  In  the  hall  she  came  upon  Miss  Field. 

"I  don't  want  to  disturb  them  now,"  she  said. 
"Will  you  say  good-bye  for  me  to  Mr.  Evans?" 

"Oh — are  you  going  home  to-night?" 

"No,"  said  Madge,  serenely.  "I'm  going  to  the 
opera." 

'  •''•";;•""••'  ;  4 '     '    5  "  '"'•". 

As  she  got  into  a  taxi  and  it  rattled  on  its  way, 
again  she  thought  about  her  clothes,  but  only  for 
an  instant. 

"Oh,  who  cares?  I'm  going!  I  won't  meet  a 
soul  I  know — and  nobody  will  even  be  aware  of  my 
existence !" 

At  first,  it  seemed  that  she  was  right.  For  the 
opera  had  already  begun,  her  orchestra  seat  was 
rather  far  back  on  a  side  aisle,  so  she  slipped  right 
in;  and  almost  at  once  she  began  to  feel  the  magic 
of  the  music.  "They're  singing  in  French!"  She 
was  glad  of  that,  for  she  could  catch  quite  a  few  of 
the  words;  and  for  a  time  she  just  drank  in  the  voices 
and  the  setting.  Then  the  music,  and  the  lines  of 
the  Paris  working  girl  hungry  for  life,  began  to  pour 
into  Madge  a  feeling  of  fresh  deep  restlessness.  In 


MILLIONS 

a  flash  she  saw  her  friend  and  herself  on  an  ocean 
liner  bound  for  France ;  and  blurred,  exciting  pictures 
rose  before  her  in  the  glamorous  dark. 

The  music  ceased,  and  the  spell  was  broken.  She 
came  to  herself,  and  all  at  once  she  felt  conspicuous, 
ill  at  ease.  The  lights  were  up,  and  she  grew  aware 
of  the  surprised  inquisitive  glances  of  several  women 
close  about.  But  then  they  forgot  her,  ab 
sorbed  in  themselves  or  in  watching  the  boxes 
above. 

"So  that  is  the  Golden  Horseshoe  I"  Madge  told 
herself,  relaxing;  and  her  look,  intent  and  curious, 
went  up  to  the  gleaming  gowns  and  the  smiling  faces 
there.  Every  few  moments  her  glance  was  caught 
by  some  woman  or  girl  more  animated  than  the  rest. 
Gay  and  vivacious,  pompous  and  fat,  clever,  stupid, 
happy,  cross — there  they  were,  the  Notorious  Rich  I 
And  she  wished  she  had  an  opera  glass !  Her  alert, 
observant  eyes  went  on  and  on,  and  she  found  her 
self  guessing  where  they  had  come  from  and  how 
long  they  had  been  rich.  Millions?  Billions!  It 
was  here !  The  peak  of  the  scramble  1  Where  had 
they  started?  How  many  others  were  on  their  way, 
scrambling  busily  day  and  night  up  the  national 
Dollar  Hill  to  find  places  at  the  top  I  And  how  many 
more  had  it  in  them,  in  dreams ! 


MILLIONS  277 

"A  box  at  the  opera !  Yes,"  she  confessed,  "I  was 
thinking  of  one  for  myself,  only  two  short  days 
ago!"  She  recalled  that  drive  on  the  Avenue;  and 
the  vistas,  warm  and  dazzling,  began  to  open  once 
again.  With  a  smile  she  thought,  "I  had  all  that 
inside  of  me — and  all  the  time  Gordon  hadn't  a 
cent !  I  don't  care — I'm  glad  it  happened  I  Think 
what  I  was  a  week  ago!  And  in  a  month  I  may 
be  on  a  liner — bound  for  Russia!  I  wonder  if 
we  can't  arrange  to  get  a  few  days  in  Paris 
first!" 

Suddenly  the  memory  of  her  last  talk  with  Evans 
broke  in.  "When  I  get  back  home?  Oh,  wait  and 
see!  I  tell  you  I  won't  miss  this  trip  for  any  man 
that  breathes !"  she  decided.  And  feeling  suddenly 
very  gay,  she  let  her  fancy  bear  her  on;  again  she 
heard  the  rush  of  waters,  felt  the  powerful  pulse 
of  the  engines  as  the  big  liner  in  the  dark  went  rush 
ing  eastward  over  the  sea. 

The  lights  in  the  great  house  of  gold  grew  slowly 
dim,  the  music  came  streaming  through  the  dark, 
the  giant  curtains  moved  softly  back — and  Madge 
drew  in  her  breath  with  a  gasp.  From  the  heights 
of  Montmartre,  with  the  girl  on  the  stage,  she  looked 
far  down  on  Paris  sparkling  in  the  night.  .  .  .  And 
now  the  girl  was  singing. 


278  MILLIONS 

When  another  intermission  came,  in  the  seats  close 
by  again  and  again  some  hasty  glance  would  be 
caught  and  held  by  the  picture  she  made,  this  prim 
little  woman  of  thirty-two,  in  her  brown  street  suit, 
sitting  alone,  with  a  smile  on  her  face  and  a  curiously 
intent  expression  in  her  blue-grey  motionless  eyes. 
But  she  did  not  heed  their  glances  now;  for  thinking 
again  of  the  last  days  and  the  amazing  warmth  of 
dreams  which  had  come  surging  out  of  herself,  she 
had  a  sharp  and  staggering  sense  of  the  presence 
of  this  secret  glow  in  millions  of  other  human 
breasts.  The  pictures  came — of  Uncle  Phil  in  his 
doctor's  buggy  long  ago,  dreaming  of  his  hospital; 
of  Aunt  Abby  in  her  kitchen,  dreaming  of  homes  for 
her  three  girls;  of  Ray  in  his  noisy  small  garage, 
planning  his  great  factory;  of  herself  in  Hale  and 
Pritchett's  store,  visioning  her  great  career.  And 
so  it  was  all  over  the  land.  From  the  people  rich 
and  prosperous  about  her  in  the  house  of  gold,  her 
mind  flashed  off  and  far  away  to  other  crowds,  at 
picture  shows,  and  to  homes  in  cities  and  small 
towns.  And  she  pictured  a  great  invisible  spirit 
rushing  over  the  earth  that  night,  and  to  each  one 
of  them,  old  and  young,  in  every  crowd,  in  every 
home,  whispering, 


MILLIONS  279 

"Here's  a  million  dollars !  In  a  few  hours  it  may 
be  yours !  Tell  me  what  you'll  do  with  it  1" 

And  Madge's  smile  grew  fixed  and  strange — for 
as  with  an  electric  shock  she  felt  the  secret  fire  rise 
in  every  mother's  son  of  them ! 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 


LD  2lA-60m-10,'65 
(F7763slO)476B 


General  Library     . 
University  of  Caliform 
Berkeley 


